


as long as you still have a heart

by darksideofmyroom



Series: everything there is to lose (is everything you have to treasure) [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda?, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Temporary Character Death, This is kinda dark, Time Loop, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, also i don’t know why I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-10-02 14:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17265551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darksideofmyroom/pseuds/darksideofmyroom
Summary: “there are some kinds of pain you can never quite get used to”Tony gets a front row ticket to his worst fear





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my mc wip: pls write me, you planned me out, you gave me a plot, just write me now  
> me at 2 am: sike I can do what I want here’s this mess of a fic

It happens like this: his eyes snap open, he finds himself gasping for oxygen and Tony lays a hand on his chest, and he presses down on it.

 

The pressure is what keeps him from panicking, what reminds him he is concrete long enough for him to remember how to properly breathe.

 

He reaches out to Tony, blindly, desperate to find some kind of comfort. He always ends up finding the sleeve of his jacket, and he grips at it like a lifeline.

 

Every time he wakes up they have less time, and it takes him longer to remember.

Every time he wakes up Tony looks a little more hopeless, a little more broken, yet he always tells him “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out”.

 

Peter takes a deep breath. He counts to three, then to ten. Sometimes he gets to a hundred before he can focus.

 

Tony waits him out, and there’s a wetness in his eyes that Peter never manages to understand.

 

He grips Tony’s sleeve and keeps himself from looking around. He concentrates on what is safe, what is real, the pressure.

 

Then, he asks “What happened?”

 

“You died” Tony tells him, every time.

  
  
  
  


It seems like they’ve been trapped for years, and even in his moments of awareness, he struggles to recall how they ended up here.

 

He sure wouldn’t have pictured things to end up this way when he received Karen’s alarm that some sort of rogue sorcerer was attacking the Sanctum Sanctorum and he decided to swing by and lend a hand.

 

He doesn’t remember much of the fight, it’s all blurred in his memory. He knows Doctor Strange and Wong were there, casting spells and conjuring weapons right beside him. He also knows that he got flung around admittedly quite a lot, but what he just can’t seem to bring back to his mind is when exactly did Tony get there and how they got stuck in this twisted loop.

 

The worst thing is, it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not if they can’t figure how to get out.

  
  
  
  


The first time Peter dies, he’s looking up at the stars.

 

It’s some sort of gas that kills him, he inhales it carelessly and before he realizes he’s choking on it.

He brings his hands to his throat instinctively, he knows it’s a stupid thing to do but he’s not really capable of logic thought at the moment.

His vision blurs and his knees give out, he crashes bonelessly to the ground, but the impact is soft against dead autumn leaves.

 

His hearing isn’t working the way it should, and everything sounds muffled, but Tony’s scream of “Peter!” is loud and clear.

 

His mentor is by his side in seconds, eyes blown wide in fear as he shakes him uselessly.

 

Peter doesn’t blame Tony for not being able to think of a way to save him, he’s sure there wasn’t much that could be done, anyway.

 

“Peter, Peter what the hell? You can’t do this to me, kid, c’mon!”

 

Peter wants to say he’s sorry, but his vision turns black before he gets a chance to do so.

  
  
  
  


He doesn’t know what the reason of this all is.

 

He’s only sure of two things at this point: he’s always going to die and Tony is going to lose his mind.

 

Maybe this is some kind of twisted game, to see how soon they break.

Whatever it is, it does not seem to have a purpose other than harming them, causing them pain.

And Peter wants to feel angry, he wants to have enough strength to rise up, to fight it, but most of the time he’s just lost and exhausted, so he just clings to Tony’s sleeve, and he holds on to him, to keep himself up and to keep Tony there with him.

 

Tony’s trying, Peter knows he’s not going to give up no matter how long this goes on, no matter how much it kills his spirit, because he knows Tony won’t let himself fail him, he won’t stop until he manages to save him.

 

And Peter wishes that knowledge would bring him a sense of security, but in reality it pains him.

He might be the one who dies but Tony is the one who’s being tortured and he can’t stand to see that happening.

 

He doesn’t know what the reason of this all is, but from what he understands this is an attempt to bring them down, to see if they will finally shatter.

And he’s alarmingly aware of the fact that if they were meant to shatter, they will.

 

He just really wants this all to be over, he just wants to go home.

  
  
  
  


Every time he awakens, they’re in a different place.

 

Tony insists on keeping him close, not letting him out of his sight. Peter wants to tell him it won’t be of any use, but he doesn’t. Tony already knows, anyway.

 

“Maybe we just have to keep you alive long enough” 

 

They’re in a small town somewhere definitely in the south, and Peter sips on his hot chocolate slowly, savouring the taste and the warmth it brings.

 

“Maybe” 

 

Tony looks at him with some sort of nostalgia in his eyes and a barely there smile on his lips that looks bitter more than anything.

 

“That has always been a hard job, but I used to be able to pull it off”

 

“Mister Stark” he says in what is supposed to be a scolding voice “You never failed at that job”

 

He scoffs, in that self deprecating manner that makes Peter grimace.

 

“I’ve seen you die eight times, Pete. Eight times”

He sniffs, the way Peter has seen him do when emotions are involved, then he drags a hand across his face “I failed at that job eight times”

 

Peter shakes his head stubbornly.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m still here”

 

A school bus runs him over approximately an hour later, and they decide they need to come up with a different strategy.

  
  
  
  


Peter’s mind is always blank when he comes to.

 

The first thing he knows is he can’t breathe, then  _ Tony. _

 

He never remembers right away, never all at once.

It’s snippets that come back to him, slowly and at different moments. An image of how he died, a piece of a conversation, a feeling, a thought, but never much more.

 

He’s left to put the fragments together and he finds that each time it takes him longer to complete the puzzle.

 

Tony helps him out, sometimes, but Peter tries not to ask him anything because of the way his voice breaks almost imperceptibly when he’s forced to retell the story of how his own personal nightmare went down.

 

Soon enough they’re going against the clock, trying to get Peter to remember before he dies, so they can try and think of a way out.

 

Turns out they’re never fast enough.

  
  
  
  


They find themselves in a laboratory facility.   
There are two guards standing before the doors of the lab but they manage to overpower them, disarm them and get in.   
  
For the first time in a long while it feels like they’re getting closer to the answer.   
This feels like playing a home game, it’s known territory. A lab means they get to research, they might be able to figure something out, here.   
  
Until it goes south, like they should have known it would have.   
  
It’s Peter’s fault, really, he knows it is.   
  
And it was rather dumb, too. Tony told him not to touch anything, yet he had to go and press the big red button.   
  
In his defence he was really curious as to what it did, but apparently the same way curiosity killed the cat, it killed Peter too.   
  
Well, not quite, actually.   
The explosion didn’t kill him, and he knows that’s the worst part, cause now he’s lying on the ground, his whole body aching,  _ burning  _ as he begs Tony to put an end to his suffering.   
  
“I can’t, I’m sorry kid, I can’t” Tony’s running a hand through what’s left of his hair and Peter guesses he’s crying, but he can’t really be sure cause all he knows is agony.   
  
“Please, please Tony, you have to” he makes sure to meet his eyes, to let him know he means it, but a wave of pain hits him all over and he doesn’t even try to suppress his scream.   
  
Tony turns his head away, he closes his eyes shut “I’m so sorry kiddo, I’m so sorry. I can’t do it, I  _ can’t _ ”

  
“I’ll wake up! I’ll wake up, just please, please do it”   
  
Tony lets out a choked sob and he takes the gun in his shaking hands, bringing it to Peter’s head slowly.    
  
The metal presses against his forehead.   
It feels cool, and Peter leans into it.   
  
Yet Tony’s finger keeps hovering over the trigger, and Peter can feel him hesitate.   
  
“I’m sorry”   
  
“It’s okay” he forces himself to say.   
  
When darkness comes, it feels like a blessing.   
  


  
  
  


He wonders if they’re somewhere stuck in time or if the world keeps going while they’re here.   
  
He doesn’t want to think of May wondering where he is, waiting for him to come home.   
  
He doesn’t want to face the fact that maybe he’ll never see her again, maybe he’ll never see Ned again. Maybe he’ll die here, one final time, and Tony will have to watch.   
  
He’s just really tired, and he wishes he could hide in his aunt’s embrace, her hold delicate, making him feel safe.

  
  
  
  


Peter’s eyes snap open, he finds himself gasping for oxygen and Tony presses a hand against his chest.

 

Peter reaches for his sleeve and Tony cups the side of his face with his hand, his thumb brushing softly against Peter’s cheek.

 

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out”

 

He sounds heartbroken as he speaks, but he smiles at Peter all the same, once again pushing down whatever’s bothering him in his favour.

 

Peter sits up and he counts to three, then to ten.

 

Once he’s done he throws himself into Tony’s arms, who doesn’t hesitate to hold him.

 

Tony rests his chin on his head and Peter listens to his mentor’s heartbeat.

 

“You wear me out, kid” he whispers. Peter knows just how true those words are.

  
  
  
  


Tony breaks down, which is something he saw coming a long way back, yet he still doesn’t know how to handle it.

 

They’re at the mountains, there’s snow all around them and Tony’s on his knees, halfway into a panic attack.

 

“Mister Stark, hey, it’s going to be okay”

 

Tony shakes his head repeatedly “You don’t get it kid, I can’t handle this anymore.  _ I can’t _ ” his breath hitches and he throws his head back in frustration.

 

Peter moves towards him, hesitantly sitting down by his side.

 

“Tony, I’m okay. We’re okay”

 

“Now. Now we’re okay. What happens when-” he stops himself for a second “what happens when you go?”

 

“I’ll wake up, and you’ll be there” he answers simply.

 

“And you’ll die again. And I’ll have to watch as your fucking heart stops beating again and again. I’ll have to lose you who knows how many times, it could go on forever”

 

“I’m sorry Tony, I know this is hard but-”

 

“It’s not just  _ hard _ , kid” he snaps “It’s hell. This is what I imagined hell would be like”

 

Peter doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. He sits by Tony’s side and he waits, until he dies of hypothermia.

  
  
  
  


Peter wakes up in a white room.

 

Panic, Tony, pressure. He reaches for the sleeve.

 

He counts to one hundred and this time he just can’t bring himself to calm down, he can’t get oxygen into his lungs and his mind is blank.

 

Then, there’s a rush.

It feels like someone slammed his head hard against a wall, and he’s left disoriented for a second, but then a thought forms in the back of his mind. It becomes clearer and clearer until it feels solid enough for him to give it life.

 

“I think I know how to get out of here”  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s my fault” he speaks softly, looking down at his hands as they rest on his lap “That we’re here”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, every single time I open my mouth: let tony stark be happy you cowards!!  
> also me, writing this: yea a little bit more of emotional torture good good
> 
> btw I finished writing this at three in the morning and I did reread it a couple times but I wouldn’t trust my sleep deprived self too much so I hope this makes sense

What Tony doesn’t tell Peter is that he never wakes up right after he dies.   
  


Tony is always left alone for a moment in which he feels all of Peter’s loss, in which he finds himself breathing while Peter isn’t.

 

There’s always a moment of desperation and despair in which he holds his lifeless body and waits for him to wake up. 

It feels like it stretches on forever.

 

Every time it takes a little bit longer for the world around them to shift and for Peter’s eyes to snap open and he always finds his mind stuck on the same, terrifying thought.

 

_ What if he’s really dead this time? _

 

He tries to push it away but desperation and sorrow hit him without mercy, and he’s left to silently beg for his kid’s life.

 

What Tony doesn’t tell Peter is he mourns his death every time, but he never gets to process his grief.

  
  
  
  


The part that kills him is he’s never ready when it happens, he never sees it coming, even though he expects it, he can never prevent it from happening.

 

Peter dies of food poisoning, he gets run over, he freezes, he burns, he bleeds out, he chokes and Tony knows that if they ever get out he won’t be able to let the boy out of his sight for a second.

He knows he won’t be able to shake the feeling of anxiety that engulfs him completely as he faces the inevitability of the fact that he’s going to lose Peter. 

 

He knows he couldn’t ever forget all the ways Peter gets taken away from him.

  
  
  
  


“How much time do you think we spent here?”

 

Peter walks beside him, his eyes fixed on the ground and he makes sure to stomp on every leaf they come across, and the way he smiles as they crunch beneath his feet is so boyish and carefree that it makes Tony’s heart ache.

 

“Way too much time, kiddo. That’s for sure”

 

He keeps trying and failing to identify exactly what park they’re in. It’s definitely a national park but he can’t decide which one. Perhaps they’re in Canada?

 

“Tony” the kid calls his name hesitantly, refusing to look up at him.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do you think we’ll be able to get home?”

 

He hopes so, although hope is beginning to slip right through his fingers, becoming liquid and impossible to maintain.

 

Does he think they’ll be able to get home?

 

Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to entertain that thought because he knows it’ll be impossible to deal with a negative outcome if he does.

 

What he does know is he won’t stop fighting until he’s tried everything, he won’t be able to stop until he makes sure Peter is safe.

 

“Of course, kid. I’ll get you home”

 

Peter smiles at him, and Tony can tell he doesn’t believe him, but he does utterly and completely trust him. 

 

Tony swallows. He knows he’s damned if he breaks that trust.

  
  
  
  


Tony’s heart breaks every time Peter dies; but when he dies slowly, when he dies suffering, it’s a whole new type of hell.

 

It feels like getting his chest torn apart, and god knows he’s well acquainted with that feeling, but the pain is somehow amplified by millions and it’s unbearable, it’s beyond the limits of what he imagines anyone can endure.

 

He’s sure he never felt quite this broken, he has known helplessness before but not like this.

 

He doesn’t bother searching for words or analogies to describe the agony of having Peter’s head on his lap, blood spurting from his lips and tears in his eyes as they wait for the suffering to be over, he knows there’s no way to explain it.

 

“God, Pete. I always tell you to pay attention” he chokes off, his hands going to wipe away the wetness sliding down the boy’s cheeks.

 

A building in construction fell on him, and one of the crossbars managed to impale him.

 

Peter has told Tony about how it felt to be crushed, all alone, thinking he may die there, and he knows he’s been afraid of it happening again ever since homecoming night.

So of course it had to go down like this, this is just how cruel the world is. 

 

Tony looks at the fear in Peter’s eyes and he hates himself because he can’t do anything to make it disappear.

 

“I- I’m sorry”

 

“Hey, no. Don’t be. Don’t be sorry” he takes Peter’s hand in his own and squeezes it.

 

“It hurts” he tells him, his voice just barely a breath.

 

“I know” and he does, he feels it just the same “I’m here Pete. You can fall asleep, I’ll be there when you wake up. It’s okay, I promise I won’t be mad”

 

Peter keeps his eyes on his face, his blinking getting slower and slower.

 

“Love you, T-tony”

 

He wishes he wouldn’t have told him that, cause it just makes this all feel more real, and he doesn’t need that, he can’t handle that.

 

“I know. I love you too” he lets his eyes slip shut “You can let go now, okay? I’ll see you soon”

 

Peter lets go. Tony struggles to find his breath.

  
  
  
  


“I think I know how to get out of here”

 

Tony waits for a second, then he asks, cautiously “How?”

 

“I think we need to get to New York. To the Sanctum Sanctorum”

 

He considers this new information slowly, forcing his brain not to race and jump to conclusions.

 

It makes sense, finish it where it had started.

 

“Do you know how?”

 

Peter thinks about it, Tony can see him forcing himself to remember, his brows furrowed in concentration as he fishes around his mind.

He shakes his head.

 

“It’s okay. We can figure it out” he reassures him. Then, a disbelieving laugh escapes his lips. It’s more of a scoff at the beginning, but it builds up in his chest and soon enough he’s nearly hysterical.

 

Peter joins him in his laughter and for a moment he has hope.

They have something to work on, they have a direction and Tony will take that.

 

He knows how dangerous it can be, but he allows this beacon of light to shine on him. 

They’re gonna get out of here, he thinks, and he comes so close to believing it, this once.

  
  
  
  


After a beach in Greece and what Tony’s pretty sure were the Argentinean Pampas, they finally find themselves in a airport in South Dakota.

 

Peter still doesn’t remember, but they don’t have time to wait now, he can’t waste a single second explaining, so he tells Peter to stay close and follow him, he’ll explain everything later.

 

He sees the confusion and subsided panic in the kid’s eyes, but he forces himself to ignore it, for now at least.

 

His number one priority at the moment is to get them on a plane to New York before anything can go wrong, so they can fix this and so that Peter will stop dying in front of him. 

 

A weight sits heavily on the pit of his stomach as he books the tickets and drags Peter along with him to their gate. 

 

He keeps looking behind his back, expecting pretty much everything; because if he’s learned something from this definitely traumatic experience is that any way one can imagine things going wrong is actually plausible.

 

His heart hammers in his chest while they board, and at this point he’s really just waiting. 

Waiting for this flicker of hope to be finally murdered and taken out of his grasp along with his kid.

 

So when the plane crashes, he’s relieved he didn’t fall for foolish expectations.

  
  
  


Since they’ve been stuck he has found himself stumbling on dark thoughts more than once.

 

He’s no stranger to the dangers his restless mind brings and he’s so well aware of the violence his thoughts sometimes carry along with them, he’s grown accustomed to them long ago.

 

But the more they spend trapped in this nightmare, the more he manages to surprise himself.

 

Somewhere along the way he finds himself thinking that even though he can feel himself die every time Peter does, he at least has the almost unbreakable certainty that the boy will wake up, that he’ll get him back; which is a poor source of consolation in these circumstances, but it is a reassurance he does not have in the real world.

 

He knows it’s twisted, but he never quite succeeds to let go of that thought.

  
  
  
  


“You look like death” Peter informs him, inspecting his face with clearly recognisable concern in his clever eyes.

 

“Funny you should say that” he snarks, keeping his gaze fixed on the road and his hands on the wheel of their rental car.

 

There’s a beat of silence and then “I’m worried about you” the kid tells him, and for a moment he sounds so much like Rhodey Tony has to remind himself where they are.

 

“Don’t be” 

 

Peter frowns at him, and Tony can tell he’s more than annoyed at the way he’s meticulously avoiding any kind of deeper conversation.

He expects Peter will say something mildly berating and keep lecturing him into talking like he has done many times before when Tony’s being too much of a mess, but instead his words surprise him entirely, hitting him like a kick in the gut.

 

“It’s my fault” he speaks softly, looking down at his hands as they rest on his lap “That we’re here”

 

“What the hell? Peter, no. Of course this isn’t your fault, why” he turns to look at him for a second, lifting his chin with his fingers to make sure their eyes meet “Why would you even say that?”

 

Peter’s eyes are glassy, and such sight sends an alarm blaring somewhere in the back of Tony’s mind.

 

“I remember” he explains, but Tony can’t still quite understand what in the world he’s talking about “The wizard, the bad one, he used me against you. He, he was holding me with some sort of spell and he said he would let me go if you did what he said. And you, you said you would”

 

“Pete” he says, his voice firm, leaving no space for an argument “That was my decision, okay? I made that choice, and even if the situation had been different, you still wouldn’t have been the one to blame, but that son of bitch of a wizard, you hear me? It’s not on you, squirt”

 

Peter keeps quiet, probably considering his words.

 

Tony reaches a hand out and rests it on Peter’s shoulder, prompting him to turn his head in his direction.

 

“Did you get that?”

 

Peter flashes him a small smile that’s not entirely genuine but not because of lack of trying “Yes”

 

It’s not enough to fully convince him but he takes it, and he puts his hand back on the wheel. 

 

“Tony?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this”

 

He sighs, and it’s his turn to fake a smile “Guess there’s a lot of things I’d do for you, kid”

  
  
  
  


He’s already resigned himself to an eternity of endless torture by the time they find themselves in New York.   
  
At first he’s too busy focusing on Peter, applying just the right amount of pressure on his chest to give him some sort of security.   
  
He forces himself through the ritual.   
For Peter, and for himself, too, for the only snippets of comfort he manages to find lie with these quiet moments in which he gets to reassure the kid.   
  
“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out” the lie falls so easily from his lips, leaving behind the same bitter taste on his tongue as always.

  
Peter begins to count under his breath and he clutches at Tony’s sleeve.   
  


He waits, patiently, greatly appreciating the beating of Peter’s heart beneath his hand and the way his chest rises and falls following his decreasingly fast breathing.   
  
That’s when he finally turns his head to look around.   
  
It takes a split second for him to recognise Harlem in the buildings that surround them.   
  
A split second that manages to steal his breath away entirely and maybe they’re finally here for a reason, maybe they actually will get to escape this, they’ll get to go home.   
Maybe it’s over, maybe they’ll get back to normal and Tony will have to learn to stop living in the incessant fear of losing Peter but they’ll get time.   
They’ll get time to heal, time to move on.   
  
“Oh God” he breathes out, his eyes wet with emotion.   
  
This far, he has endured.   
Now, it’s his moment to fight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y’all!  
> This fic has revealed itself to be strangely easy to write and I’m having fun, so yeah, that’s good. I estimate there should be two or theee more chapters, and I’m super excited for the next one!  
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading and if you feel like leaving a comment or give me any feedback that would literally make my day  
> Hope you’re having a nice day/night/afternoon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “None of your business, Mister Strange. Now if you’ll excuse us” he makes a gesture with his hand and the world around Tony blurs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry for the delay! I had a couple hellish weeks in school and not much time to write.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this even though it’s absolute trash :)

“Pete, get up. Get up, we’ve gotta go”

 

The teenager frowns at his urgency, worry clouding his features as he looks up at Tony.

 

“Mister Stark? What’s going on?” he grabs the hand Tony’s offering and pushes himself off the ground.

 

Once he’s on his feet Tony doesn’t wait a second before he starts dragging him down the street.

He’s walking fast, looking frantically for a subway entrance. His grip on Peter is strong enough to be uncomfortable, and he hopes he’s not hurting him but at the same time he can’t get himself to concentrate on anything other than not screwing up this chance.

 

“Mister Stark? Are you okay?”

 

Tony barely registers the question over the noise of his racing thoughts, his mind going through the million different options and outcomes while he forces himself to hang on to hope.

This has to be it, this has to be the solution.

 

They need the suits, he decides.

He doesn’t know if there will be a fight waiting for them once they get to Greenwich Village, and he needs to make sure they’re ready, he has to make sure they win.

 

So they’ll go to the Tower first, that’s the plan.

 

Peter stops walking all of a sudden, and the action is so abrupt and unexpected that Tony almost gets thrown back against him.

 

“Tony!” his voice is firm and even though Tony can read the confusion and fear in his eyes, the determination is just as visible “You need to tell me what’s happening”

 

It’s not a request but rather a demand, and he knows he owes the kid at least that, but their time keeps running and this is maybe the last time they will get a shot at making things right once again.

 

He sighs, and god, he’s so tired, he just wants this all to be over.

 

“I’ll explain. I swear I’ll explain it all to you kid. But we need to get on the subway to Manhattan as fast as we can. I’ll tell you everything once we’re there, okay?”

 

Peter studies his face suspiciously, and Tony knows he’s struggling with the idea of not knowing.

He nods though, that stupid faith he has in him getting the best over his indecision.

 

“Okay”

  
  
  


Peter’s sitting impossibly close to Tony, and the way their shoulders and knees brush together brings Tony some soft kind of comfort.

They’re fine for now, nothing can really happen to Peter as long as he’s by his side.

 

Luckily enough the subway is not packed, and the people sitting next to them don’t seem to have recognized Tony yet.

That’s good, he guesses.

 

Barely a minute after they start moving, Peter asks “So? What is it?” his voice is just above a whisper and Tony appreciates his carefulness greatly.

 

“Do you know what happened? Before you woke up?”

 

He knows the answer is no, but still he hopes he won’t have to say it aloud, because even though he’s said it every time, it still hurts just as much.

 

Peter narrows his eyes in concentration, reaching out for glimpses and moments that his mind won’t allow him yet. He shakes his head.

 

“You died” he says and Peter doesn’t flinch or look at him like he’s crazy, instead he nods at him to go on.

 

“You died a lot, kiddo. Way too many times if you ask me” he brings his hand up to cup the kid’s face as he forces what he hopes isn’t an excessively sad smile.

 

“But I woke up. Right?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, you did”

 

Peter takes in his words, and Tony can almost see them swirl around in his head.

“Why- How did this happen?”

 

“We were fighting a crazy sorcerer that had attacked the Sanctum Sanctorum, he’s the one that put us in this loop”

 

Peter stays quiet for a second, probably processing the big chunks of information Tony has just dumped on him.

 

“You called this a loop? Like, like Groundhog Day? Or-”

 

“No, no it’s not like that. It’s always different, we’re always in a different place and different things happen. The only thing that ever stays the same is-” he takes a breath.

 

Peter looks at him sympathetically “The only thing that ever stays the same is I die” he finishes for him.

 

Tony gulps, he nods.

 

“Isn’t there a way to stop it?” the kid asks the question cautiously, as if he’s afraid of what answer he might get.

 

“You said you knew how to get out, once. You said we had to get to the Sanctum. And this is the closest we’ve gotten to it yet, so I think this is the best shot we’re gonna get at stopping this, and I don’t wanna screw it up”

 

“You won’t screw it up” he gives him a reassuring smile “We won’t”

 

Tony looks at him, at the hopeful glint in his eyes, and he allows himself to believe him.

 

“If you say so, kid”

 

Peter slips his fingers into Tony’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“So what’s the plan?”

 

For a moment, Tony considers not letting Peter take part in the action. He’s terribly tempted by the idea of locking him up in the Tower, leaving him safe and away from any kind of danger while he goes and kicks some magical ass.

 

Then, he remembers this is Peter’s fight as well, and as much as he hates to know just how much he’s risking by letting the boy be the hero he was born to be, he’s also aware there’s no way to stop him.

 

“We go to Sanctum, we stop that wizard, and then Strange will find a way to put an end to this nonsense”

 

“Why are we going to Midtown, then?”

 

“We’re going to the Tower” he explains “To get suited up, you know”

 

He hums “Right, that makes sense”

 

“You’ve gotta promise me you’re going to be super careful, though. Can you do that?”

 

Peter shrugs “Sure. I’m always careful”

 

He doesn’t appreciate that fact that the kid isn’t taking the matter as seriously as it is.

 

“Peter” he says in a somewhat scolding voice “You’ve gotta promise me”

 

Peter seems to catch up with the weight of the situation, and he gives Tony one of those terribly empathetic looks he gets when he understands exactly what Tony’s feeling.

 

“I promise”

 

Peter lays his head on his shoulder, offering him the comfort he admittedly desperately needs.

 

“We’ll fix it, Tony. It’ll be over soon”

 

“I know” he leaves a kiss on top of Peter’s hair “It’ll be over soon”

  
  
  


He didn’t expect to see her.

He actually thought he would never get to lay his eyes upon her again, yet there she is, just feet away from him.

 

She’s a mirage, and she’s the most beautiful sight he’s seen in ages. Tony can’t believe she’s real and not just a product of his decaying mind.

 

“Tony-” she starts to say but he moves faster than she speaks, taking her face between his hands and pressing his lips against hers.

 

He loses himself in the moment, savouring these seconds of warmth and just briefly forgetting about the fear, the pain and the devastation he’s come to know.

 

Reluctantly, he pulls away, his hands falling from Pepper’s shoulders to her arms.

 

“Well, hello to you to” she smiles, eyeing him somewhat suspiciously.

 

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but it seems words have finally failed him.

 

Pepper doesn’t seem to notice, her attention caught by Peter’s presence.

 

“Hey Peter!” she walks over to him and engulfs him in a hug, which the kid returns gladly.

 

Tony can’t help but smile looking at them.

 

“Miss Potts, it’s so nice to see you!”

 

“You too, Peter. How are you doing, sweetie?”

 

The smile on his face falters just slightly before it grows wider.

 

“Good, what about you? How was Tokyo?”

 

Right, Pepper had just come back from a business trip to Tokyo before this happened.

That simple facts feels like a distant memory from a lost world, and Tony realizes just how detached he has become from anything else that isn’t constant suffering.

 

“Tiring” she says simply. She pushes a stray lock of Peter’s hair out of his face and behind his ear as she locks her gaze with Tony’s.

 

There’s a silent question in her eyes, and she’s not quite worried yet but Tony can see her curiosity slowly blur into tentative concern.

 

He tries to reassure her as they have their unspoken exchange, but he guesses he looks just as wrecked as he feels and Pepper is not at all one to be easily fooled.

 

“So, what are you guys doing? Going to the lab?”

 

Neither Peter nor Tony really know what to say.

Should they hide this from her? Should they tell her everything?

 

Pepper raises an eyebrow at them.

 

“Or is it superhero stuff?”

 

“That’s it, yeah” Tony says, and in the end he’s not lying to her nor telling her the truth.

 

“Should I be worried?”

 

“No, Miss Potts, it shouldn’t be anything big”

 

Except it is big, and Tony has fought wars and battles against people and beings that seemed impossible to defeat. He held the fate of the world, and of the universe, in his hands.

 

Yet, somehow, this is bigger than anything else he’s faced before.

The weight on his shoulders has never been so crushing and he’s had billions of lives depending on him, but this is _Peter,_  and he manages to matter more.

 

Tony knows they have to win.

They have to win, otherwise he’ll just keep losing, till the end of time.

 

And he can’t handle that, and his hands begin to suddenly shake cause god, what if it doesn’t work?

 

Pepper’s voice causes him to snap out of his thoughts.

 

“You’ll still be careful, though?”

 

“Of course” Peter nods.

 

Pepper looks at both of them, probably deciding if she should trust them to keep that word.

 

“Okay” she finally says “But we’re all having dinner together this evening, so don’t be late. And I expect you to tell me everything then, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, sure”

 

“Alright, off you go then” she gestures loosely in the direction of the door.

 

Peter flashes her a smile and he turns to Tony

“Mister Stark? Are you coming?”

 

“In a moment, kid. You go ahead”

 

Peter sends a meaningful glance his way, like he understands just how much he needs this. Then he nods, waves Pepper goodbye, and he starts making his way to the labs.

 

Once Peter has left the room, carefully closing the door behind his back, Pepper addresses the elephant in the room.

 

“What is it, then?”

 

“Nothing to worry about, really” the words have a bitter taste in his mouth, but he spits them out anyway, no matter how wrong they feel.

 

He looks up at Pepper to study her expression.

He can see the growing worry as well as a tinge of irritation in it, but they’re both perfectly contained.

 

Tony wishes, not for the first time, that he had that kind of control.

 

He speaks again before she gets a chance to rebut “I’m just scared something may happen to Peter”

 

She takes a moment to consider his words.

“Well that isn’t new. You’re always scared something may happen to him and he’s always giving you reasons to be” she rests a hand on his arm “But Peter’s a tough kid. He’s a hero, isn’t he? And he has you watching his back”

 

“What if that’s not enough?” there’s something tearful in his voice that makes him appear more vulnerable than he would’ve liked.

 

Pepper frowns at him “That’s more than enough, Tony”

 

He wants to believe her so badly, but he knows it isn’t true. He’s seen it happen, he’s seen just how powerless he truly is.

 

He knows he can’t protect Peter from everything, and perhaps that is his biggest curse, perhaps it’s the price he has to pay for the unnumbered mistakes he’s made in his life.

 

Somehow, it still feels like too high a price.

 

“I guess you’re right” he shrugs “Just can’t really help but worry, you know. Caring for a teenage vigilante can be challenging”

 

“Oh so I’ve heard. May sure has a lot of stories about that”

 

She leans in for a short kiss “But you’re doing a good job, Tony. He’ll be okay”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks, honey”

 

He feels like he’s lying to himself, but he forces himself to take in her words.

 

Peter will be okay, Tony will do anything to make sure that stays true.

  
  
  


“Don’t you think this is a little...too much?” says Peter, referring to the suit he’s wearing.

It’s the Iron Spider suit, and Tony has always wanted to give it to the kid once he officially became an Avenger, but he guesses things don’t always go according to plan.

 

Tony shrugs “We don’t know where your suit is, and even if we did we don’t have time to go get it” he explains “Plus, I think it’s time you tried that on”

 

Peter gives him a small smile. “It’s cool”

 

Tony sniffs, nodding.

 

Then “You sure you’re up to this?” he asks tentatively, hoping that the answer he gets will be different from the one he expects.

 

Peter nods energetically “I’m sure. I want this to be over just as much as you do”

 

“I know you do” he takes a deep breath “But I want you to know you don’t have to fight if you don’t feel like it”

 

“And I want you to know I’m one hundred percent up to this. I want to help”

 

“Okay. Yeah, of course”

 

He almost doesn’t notice the way his breathing quickens, and his heart starts hammering against his chest.

 

Peter certainly does.

“Tony” he calls his name softly, the note of urgency in his voice well hidden “Listen to me, it’ll be alright. Hey, you’re Iron Man and I’ve got this super cool suit. We’ll be fine, we’ll kick that wizard’s butt”

 

He breathes out a laugh, his eyes falling closed as he wills himself to calm down.

 

“I know, kid. I know, I just-”

 

“It won’t happen again this time” Peter tells him, and Tony wonders just how he manages to guess what’s going on in his head.

 

“How can you be sure?” and he really wishes he could be strong, he really wants to be the one to comfort Peter instead of having it the other way around. But he can’t just get over his terror, his misery “How can _I believe that?_ ”

 

“You don’t have to believe it, Mister Stark. You just have to trust me”

  
  
  


He doesn’t know what he was expecting to find once they got to Greenwich Village, but he definitely didn’t picture anything like this.

 

First to catch his attention is the beam of green light that’s shining through the big circular window of the sanctuary.

 

He can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a threat or if it’s just the result of a protective spell cast by Strange or something along those lines; but he doesn’t get to worry about that for long, as he becomes aware of a second element.

 

Amongst the whirl of panicked civilians, Tony notices the definitely not-human figures they are running from.

 

The creatures are man sized, their skin is a shade between green and brown and there are pocks covering the entirety of their bodies.

They only have one big eye that takes up most of the space available on their faces, and white, ivory horns stick out of their foreheads and of the back of their heads.

They stalk after the people on the streets gashing the air with their long, sharp claws.

 

Tony realizes, by observing the way they’re moving, that they’re not attacking the crowd, but rather ensuring that they keep away from the Sanctum.

 

And maybe it’s because of the remarkable amount of unexplainable things he’s seen happen, but he processes the scene unfolding before his eyes way more quickly than any other person probably would.

 

He touches down on the closest roof, taking a moment to make up a plan of attack in his mind.

He does realize that given any other circumstances he would already be jumping into action without a second thought, but this is important and he doesn’t want to mess up because he underestimated the danger of the situation.

 

“They kind of look like Mike Wazowski, don’t you think?” comments Peter as he lands lightly on his feet to Tony’s left “Just...bigger and uglier. Definitely not as funny”

 

“Peter” he begins to say, a note of warning in his voice.

 

“Yes, I know. I’m on civilian duty. I’ll be careful, won’t do anything stupid or reckless, yada yada”

 

He rolls his eyes at the teenager; he sometimes forgets Spider-Man doesn’t hesitate to sass him.

Not that Peter does, but he gets considerably more confident when he’s wearing the suit.

 

“Please” he’s not quite begging but he’s close enough, and he knows Peter will know everything he means to say by just hearing that single word.

It’s just the way it is between the two of them.

They’re not used to speaking up much, so they both learned how to tell each other what they’re feeling without using their voices.

 

“It’ll turn out just fine, Tony. Don’t worry” and with that he jumps off the roof, quickly catching himself with his webs.

 

He watches as Peter swings his way down to help a girl and her little brother get away from the creature running after them. He shoots a web right in the monster’s eye and he sticks its feet to the floor.

Then he’s off again, making his way towards a group of terrified tourists.

 

Tony takes a deep breath, and he decides it’s time for him to do something as well.

 

He heads straight for the Sanctum, and he’s not surprised to find the majority of the creatures are gathered around it protectively, confirming Tony’s theory.

 

He blasts his way through them, and he tries to shut out the horrifying shrieking noises they make as they are wounded.

 

“What the hell are even these things?” he asks to himself.

 

He doesn’t expect to hear an answer.

 

“I’m afraid I’m unable to identify the species, boss. I couldn’t find anything in my archive that matches them”

 

Tony stops in his tracks for a second, caught completely off guard by the AI’s voice.

 

“FRIDAY?”

 

“Right here, boss”

 

He smiles at that, a sense of security washing all over him.

It’s comforting to have FRIDAY back, he didn’t realize how much he missed her.

 

“That’s good to know, baby girl. Ready to kick some ass?”

 

“Always, sir”

 

He shoots at one of the creatures’ head, decapitating it right on.

 

That’s when he spots Wong, who’s fighting as he stands before the entrance of the Sanctum.

 

Tony doesn’t wait a second and flies where he is, blasting off a monster that was getting dangerously close to the sorcerer.

 

“Hey there, Wong” he greets “Think you owe me one”

 

The man barely regards him of a glance, focused on his task of defending the sanctuary.

 

“Think you owe me more” he quips back, and yeah, maybe he does.

 

Wong opens a portal and three of the creatures disappear into it. Then, he finally turns to face Tony

“What are you doing here, Stark?”

 

“Just lending a hand” he shrugs, releasing a pulse bolt strong enough to send all the cyclops closest to them flying “I would also like to know where I can find the asshole who’s doing all this”

 

“You’ve got no business mixing up with Idhunn”

 

“Oh, believe me, I do”

 

Wong narrows his eyes at him, but he seems to give in to his request.

 

“He’s inside the Sanctum Sanctorum, Stephen is supposedly trying to stop him”

 

“Got it, thanks!”

 

“Don’t-” Wong begins to say but Tony’s already kicking the door open, wasting no time getting in.

 

As soon as he steps foot inside, he’s met by the sight of Strange falling off the ramp of stairs, his cloak barely managing to prevent him crashing against the ground.

He recovers quickly, his back straightening as he brings his hands together, orange sparkles coming out of them.

 

He also seems to be aware of Tony’s presence, as he addresses him without even turning to see him “Stark, I suggest you leave before this gets nasty”

 

“I think I’d rather stay, I like when things get nasty”

 

“Tony” Strange begins to say, a tone of warning in his voice, but before he gets to tell him to leave once again, a different voice speaks up.

 

“Stark! You’re finally here! I was wondering when you were gonna show up”

 

Tony’s head snaps up to see the man that caused him infinite pain standing at the top of the staircase, a smirk painted on his face.

 

He can’t help but feel himself start boiling with anger then, and it takes everything in him to stop himself from jumping at the sorcerer.

 

He retracts the helmet, making his face visible so he can be sure the other man can see he means it when he says “You’re dead”

 

“I was expecting you to be more creative with the threats, but sure, whatever works for you”

 

Tony all but growls, which causes Strange’s already puzzled expression to furrow.

 

“What is going on here?” he asks, sending a confused glance to Tony, clearly searching for answers.

 

“None of your business, Mister Strange. Now if you’ll excuse us” he makes a gesture with his hand and the world around Tony blurs out.

  
  
  


Suddenly, he’s surrounded by emptiness.

There’s nothing else around him but white, and he has to blink a couple times before he gets accustomed to it.

 

It’s just him and Idhunn, as Wong called him.

 

“Ahh, this is much better. Don’t you think he’s a little annoying?”

 

Tony clenches his hands into fists with enough force that he can feel his nails prickling the flesh.

 

“You don’t seem happy to see me” Idhunn pouts, and Tony gets the urgent need to choke the life out of him.

 

“That’s the biggest understatement of your life”

 

“Aw c’mon” he laughs “No need to act all tough with me. I’ve made you break, remember?”

 

Tony only realizes he sent a punch flying after his fist collides harshly with Idhunn’s face.

 

He expects his action won’t pass unpunished, and he’s already bracing himself for the response.

 

He’s ready to fight. Actually, he can’t wait to.

 

Nothing happens though.

Idhunn presses a hand where Tony hit him, slowly, but he doesn’t attack.

 

“Feeling better?” he asks defiantly.

 

Tony wants to scream.

And he would have if he wasn’t trying to hold on to what little was left of his self-control.

 

“You’re sick” he spits, his voice dripping with all of his hatred “You actually think this is funny”

 

Idhunn shrugs “Eh, this wasn’t really what I was planning to do, actually. But since those two sorcerers kind of blew up my former plan, I thought I might as well entertain myself with something different. You and the child just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or well, I guess that depends on whose perspective we’re talking about”

 

“That was the worst decision you could ever make”

 

“Because you’re gonna kill me?” he scoffs “C’mon, Stark, you and I both know killing me won’t keep Peter Parker alive”

 

Tony gets the pressing need to gag upon hearing his kid’s name on the man’s lips.

 

“It certainly won’t keep _you_ alive”

 

“So what are you going to do to me, uh?” he takes a step towards Tony “Shoot me in the head? The same way you shot little Peter to put him out of his misery?”

 

Tony gasps, the words cutting through him sharply and devastatingly.

He recoils as the memory flashes through his mind, clear as day and just as painful.

 

Idhunn seems to notice he hit right in the mark and he takes the chance to go on speaking “If you really think about it, I did you a favor. I mean, it’s inevitable, that boy’s not going to reach adulthood. I just made you realize it, so that when he’s gone you will at least have seen it coming”

 

“Shut up” his voice is low and menacing, and the anger keeps bubbling up in his chest as the sorcerer digs his nails into his unhealed wounds.

 

“You can’t protect him from everything. You should accept the fact that someday he’ll get himself killed and you’ll be left shopping for kid-sized coffins” he raises his hands nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just talk about Tony’s worst fear, the most horrifying thing that could ever happen to him “The world is big, bad and dangerous, Stark, I think you know.  Do you really think it won’t take your kid away?”

 

“I said shut up!” he finally snaps, grabbing Idhunn by his chiton with his left hand while he wraps his right around his neck “You’re gonna put an end to this bullshit or you’re gonna regret it”

 

Idhunn all but smirks at him “Is that so?”

 

Tony answers by tightening his grip, causing the wizard to choke and for his eyes to widen in panic.

 

He knows it’s morbid, but such sight gives him a rush of satisfaction quite like nothing else.

 

“Okay, okay” he wheezes “I’ll let you go”

 

“Swear you’ll do it!”

 

“I swear”

 

Tony releases him and he takes a few steps back.

He wonders for a second if that was the right thing to do, or if he made a huge mistake.

 

Idhunn coughs a bit, then, once he’s recovered, he makes the same gesture as before.

 

“We did have a bit of fun, in the end. Don’t you agree?”

 

Before Tony can yell at him that no, he absolutely doesn’t agree, he’s back in the Sanctum, Strange right by his side.

  
  
  


Tony doesn’t answer any of the questions Strange shoots at him.

 

Instead he gets outside, infinitely pleased that the creatures have disappeared, and he tells Wong to go get Peter.

 

He feels ecstatic, and while he’s not sure he totally processed that it’s finally over, a sense of lightness envelops him whole.

 

He’s almost giddy with relief, and for a moment he lets himself breathe freely.

 

When Peter finally shows up at the door, Tony rushes to him and wraps his arms around the kid so tightly he’s pretty much smothering him.

He brings Peter’s head to rest against his chest, and he closes his eyes, savouring the moment.

His fingers start to run across the kid’s hair almost automatically and he doesn’t say a thing, and neither does Peter.

 

For the first time in so long, Tony feels warm and all around them is peace.

 

“Is it over, then?” asks Peter, without daring to break away from Tony's grip.

 

“Yeah, kiddo. You were right”

Tony looks down at him just to see a small smile appear on his face.

 

“I always am”

 

“Now, now you’re going too far”

 

Peter chuckles at that and Tony can’t help but squeeze him tighter.

 

“I love you so much kid”

He tells him because he wants him to know and because he’s not afraid to admit it anymore. Not when he’s seen much bigger fears come true.

“You’re like a son to me”

 

Peter pulls away then, his eyes wide and his expression radiant.

 

“I love you too, Mister Stark”

 

And everything is so perfect that Tony allows himself to believe it, he allows himself to be _happy._

 

He should have known that there are certain things that he’s not allowed to have.

 

Because then, the smile on Peter’s face drops, and so does Tony’s heart.

 

“What is it?” he asks urgently, dread clouding his mind like thick, grey fog.

 

“Something’s wrong” says Peter, just before his legs give out and he crashes bonelessly to the ground.

 

Tony goes down with him, his ears ringing as he takes Peter’s face between his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey. Pete, what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

 

Peter shakes his head, and Tony notices there are tears in his eyes.

 

“Strange!” he calls, now in a full panic.

 

He tries to collect himself as he talks to Peter, because he can tell the boy is just as scared as he is, but he finds it impossible to contain his emotions.

 

“Where does it hurt?” he asks, softly.

 

Peter doesn’t answer.

 

“Please, talk to me, kid”

 

“I don’t know” he sputters out, sounding miserable and terrified “I, I don’t know what’s happening”

 

“It’s okay. You’re alright. Just, just take a deep breath, alright? I’m here”

 

“I’m so sorry, Tony”

 

He breathes out a nervous laugh “What for kid?”

 

“I think it’s happening again” he says, his face scrunching up in pain.

 

“No. No, it’s not” it can’t be happening again, not now “You’ll be just fine, just hang in there for me, alright? Just for a little while”

 

Peter’s lips curl up in what results to be an impossibly sad smile.

 

“I want you to know it’s not your fault, Tony”

 

Tony misses a breath, then he screams for Strange once again.

 

“Please kid, I can’t handle this”

 

“I know. I’m sorry. You don’t, you don’t deserve this” Peter lets himself crumble against Tony, and he doesn’t have any other choice other than holding him “Will you” he coughs “Will you be there when I wake up?”

 

And Tony can’t hold the sob caught in his throat anymore, he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to say “Of course, buddy. Of course I’ll be there”

 

“Thank you” he tells him, right before he lets his eyes slip closed.

 

For the millionth time, Tony listens as Peter’s heart stops beating and as his breathing halts to a stop.

 

He doesn’t understand, he really can’t wrap his mind around it because Peter was _fine._ Nothing happened to him.

This was supposed to be the end, Tony was supposed to not screw up, this time.

 

For the millionth time, Tony experiences the deepest kind of grief humanity has ever known.

For the millionth time he feels himself die with his kid, for the millionth time hope dies along with them.

 

For the millionth time he waits, he waits for the torture to start again but mostly to look Peter in the eyes once more, feel his heartbeat under his hand.

 

For the first time, Peter doesn’t wake up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry?  
> Please scream at me in the comments


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What I’m saying is that this reality, the one in which Peter dies, does not follow the space-time continuum of our universe. All of this exists outside of any chronology. Which means you’re still stuck, Tony”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all I’m so sorry this took so long! My life is literally a mess right now, so I didn’t have much time to focus on this. I’m still so so sorry for leaving you hanging for like almost a month, I hope you’ll forgive me!  
> I barely reread this and it kind of sucks but then again, what’s new right? Hope you enjoy anyway, love you!

It feels like they’re frozen in time, but Tony knows the seconds are passing by, so inevitably fast, completely out of his control and immovable to the way he’s begging for it all to stop.

 

Peter begins to feel almost cold against him, but he ignores it, he shuts his eyes as he clenches the kid’s body closer to his.

 

He’s painfully aware of the lack of a heartbeat and he’s not sure how long it’s been since Peter closed his eyes, but he forces himself to believe it isn’t too late for him to wake up.

 

He focuses on the ringing of his ears rather than the suffocating silence that’s surrounding them.

He’s been through this before, he knows each step by heart.

 

Peter wakes, they’re in a new, always foreign, place. He puts a hand on Peter’s chest to keep him still and he receives the small but untradable blessing of knowing he’s alive. 

 

Then it goes on forever, and sure, it’s maybe the worst thing that ever happened to him, even among all the unspeakable tragedies he’s lived through, but it is still better than this.

 

Tony decides he can’t deal with the waiting.

Every breath he takes that Peter doesn’t makes it all feel too real and cruel.

 

“C’mon bud, don’t do this” he whispers, and his voice breaks under the weight of his pain.

He doesn’t bother keeping his heartbreak from his words, cause he knows, deep down, that Peter won’t get to hear them anyway.

 

But he still does speak softly, using that tone he only ever lets himself take with Peter, because he is still holding him and maybe the world around them will shift again, maybe Peter will come back to him.

 

Maybe this doesn’t have to be how it ends, maybe this doesn’t have to happen to him.

 

It  _ can’t  _ happen to him.

 

And he’s so used to the feeling of losing and losing just to lose again, he knows it better than he knows his own soul.

But he can’t afford to lose Peter, not permanently and not like this. That is just way over the limit of what’s admissible and what’s bearable.

 

“Don’t leave me kid” he pleads, resting his chin on Peter’s head and squeezing him tight.

 

He doesn’t expect to receive an answer, but the fact that he doesn’t seems to be enough for the reality of his loss to crash all over him like a tidal wave.

 

It sends him under, takes his breath away, it pulls and drags him apart from the inside, weighing down on him with an amount of brute force he knows he won’t ever be able to withstand.

 

And just like that he reaches the bottom, yet one more time.

 

But this once it’s different, there’s no coming back from it now that he’s past the breaking point.

He failed and this is what he gets for it: watching the brightest light in his life die out.

 

Anguish is the only thing he can process, the only thing that feels relevant, now that nothing matters anymore.

 

His thoughts are a mess so intricate and so wrapped up in pain that, even if he cared enough to, he wouldn’t be able to decipher them.

All he knows is everything’s too loud, too harsh, too painful and he wasn’t supposed to let this happen, he was supposed to protect the kid. 

That’s what he swore he would do; he swore it to May, to himself, and to Peter too, though silently.

 

Before he knows it he starts sobbing, kissing the top of Peter’s head uselessly, cause the boy won’t feel it. He’s dead, gone right under Tony’s hold, for the millionth time but for the first, really.

 

Tony can only wish the tears he sheds will be enough to fill the never ending void situated at the height of his chest that keeps expanding without showing signs of stopping, but he knows they won’t.

Nothing ever will.

 

Something inside him shifts, then it shatters and Tony grits his teeth through the tears.

 

He actually let himself hope, he let himself believe it was over, he foolishly and honestly thought they would be happy then. 

He should have known such things weren’t meant to happen to him.

 

Still this can’t be fair, no matter how many people he’s wronged, how much damage he’s caused, Peter’s life is too high a price to pay for his sins.

 

The kid is good, genuinely, selflessly  _ good  _ and he’s not just the best thing to ever happen to Tony, but he’s what the world needs, he’s the future.

 

Peter is young, he’s brilliant and he has a heart bigger than himself, he’s got so much to give and so much to experience, and Tony can’t bring himself to refer to the boy using the past tense.

 

Peter deserves to have everything, he deserves to be happy and loved and innocent. Yet life keeps taking more and more from him, his parents, his uncle. Tony knows this, but he never thought it would get to this point. 

 

He thought he could prevent it, he thought he would have been enough to keep Peter alive, to keep the light in his eyes. 

 

He’s not, and it was so selfish of him to let Peter worm his way into his life.

He should have stayed away from him, he should have tried to put a bigger distance between them.

 

Because then Peter became important, he became irreplaceable and Tony began to love him more than he thought he was capable of.

 

And that was when Peter was doomed, just like everything and everyone else Tony dared to touch, to care about.

 

That was the start of it, and this is the end.

This is Tony, holding a lifeless child, one he loves like his own. 

He holds him till the end of time, as the Earth crashes and burns. He holds him forever, but he will never get to do it again.

 

(It feels like they’re frozen in time, but Tony believes the sun did in truth collapse, and what will be of them, what would be of humanity, doesn’t really matter at all).

  
  
  
  


Pepper holds his face between her hands. She’s barely touching him, so Tony doesn’t think it’s real.

 

It’s dark outside, but it is of no relevance; day and night are just the same for him, neither of them allow him to rest.

 

“It’s not your fault” she tells him, because that’s what she’s always telling him now and it’s been a week but Tony still feels the need to throw up upon hearing those words.

 

“Stop lying to me” he’s exhausted and he aches everywhere, and the ache is so deep in his bones, he’ll never be able to ignore it “Stop lying to me” he asks Pepper, and he’s asking for mercy.

 

“I’m not, Tony” her eyes fill with tears that he knows she won’t allow herself to shed. Not now.

 

“You did” and he’s not accusing her, it’s just a matter of fact “You told me he would have been fine. You told me, you told me I was doing a good job”.

 

She shallows, meeting his eyes for a second and then looking away, as if it had hurt.

She doesn’t answer. She keeps her hands on Tony’s face, but she doesn’t apply enough pressure, so Tony floats away.

  
  
  
  


Strange gets there once Peter’s already dead, and Tony will always resent him for that, despite himself.

 

He kneels beside him, but Tony doesn’t notice his presence. 

 

Strange waits as Tony cries, and he mourns too.

Then, he puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and when he speaks he hides the pain in his voice, but not the sympathy “I’m sorry”

 

Tony doesn’t listen to him, because he doesn’t care and anything that exists outside himself and Peter isn’t important.

 

He keeps whispering to the kid, he rambles and reassures him hysterically, he tells him everything will be okay, 

 

Strange sighs, releasing some of the weight that rests on the pit of his stomach along with his breath. He says “He’s gone, Tony”

 

He speaks like Tony’s a toddler, and he’s trying to make him understand something that his mind isn’t capable of processing yet. 

He pronounces those words with a certain type of delicacy that Tony is sure Strange has never used before, not even when he had to break tragic news to the family of his patients.

 

“You’ve gotta let him go”

 

“Shut up!” Tony shouts, and Stephen does as he’s told.

 

Later, when people who tell him they’re there to help him try to take Peter away, he fights them tooth and nail.

 

They tell him that Peter doesn’t need him to hold him anymore, but Tony refuses to let go of him anyway, and he keeps telling him, over and over again “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out”.

  
  
  
  


Tony will never forget the look on May’s face when she learns that her son is dead.

 

There is nothing in the world that could ever equal the amount of raw pain and devastation that overcomes her features, twisting them into the most torturous picture, one of a mother who still exists without her child.

 

It’s Pepper who tells her, because Tony is so much of a coward that he can’t even say what she has a right to know. That Peter’s blood is on his hands, that he’s the one to blame for her nephew’s death.

 

At first May, just like Tony, doesn’t want to acknowledge the reality of the facts. 

She shakes her head, stubbornly refusing to believe such cruelty could be done to her.

 

“No, no. No, it can’t be” she keeps shaking her head, even though her voice breaks and her eyes water.

 

It’s when her eyes meet Tony’s that she realizes. Perhaps because that’s where she finds the dreaded confirmation that her worst fear did, in fact, come true.

 

“Not Peter” and she’s still looking at Tony, she’s begging him and this is all his doing, it’s on him. It’s his fault her heart is broken, torn, shattered, he didn’t keep his promise.

 

He expects her to be angry, to scream, to hit him.

He  _ wants _ her to be angry, because it’s what he deserves, and in a way, it would make everything much easier.

 

Instead, May falls to her knees, and she breaks.

 

“No, not my Peter. Not my baby” she cries, and Tony clenches his fists.

  
  
  
  


Tony’s anger is consuming him, it lights him up like a match and it’s burning him down, progressively faster.

 

He knows this, and everybody else seems to know it too, but it still isn’t enough to make the fire die out.

 

The rage is mostly aimed at himself, but a big hunk of it is obsessively directed at Idhunn.

He’s the one who did this, he’s the one who took Peter away from him and if anything, he’s going to pay for it. Tony will make sure of that, no matter what it takes.

 

But before that, before everything and stronger than the anger, which is killing him slowly but really killing him all at once; before that comes a mission: getting Peter back.

 

And he will, because he can’t have it any other way. Because if he doesn’t nothing will ever feel right again.

 

So his rage is what’s dragging him under, while his determination to see Peter again is what gives him that spark of hope that’s so small to seem invisible, but it’s enough to get him to hold on.

  
  
  
  


“I never told him I actually care about him”

 

Tony lifts his gaze from the floor to Happy’s face, his friend’s words taking him completely off guard.

 

Happy hasn’t said anything about the kid since he learned what happened. He just quietly took the news in, choosing not to share his grief but rather dealing with it on his own.

 

Tony didn’t expect him to open up like this.

Happy wasn’t the kind of guy to speak about his emotions easily, and that was probably the reason they got along so well.

But it’s five o’clock on a Friday afternoon, and that’s the time Happy usually goes to pick Peter up when he comes and spends the weekend at the Tower.

 

It’s five o’clock on a Friday afternoon and Happy is sitting in the kitchen with Tony, holding a cup of coffee that will inevitably get cold if he keeps looking at it without daring to sip it.

It’s five o’clock on a Friday afternoon and Peter is  _ dead,  _ and Happy probably just realized that.

 

“You will. When we get him back, you’ll tell him a million times”

 

“Tony” Happy starts to say, most likely to cut off his delusion short. 

That’s what Pepper and Rhodey have been trying to do since it happened, they say he needs to face his loss before he ever gets to cope with it.

 

Truth is he will never be able to cope with Peter being gone, and he doesn’t care if he is actually just illuding himself by thinking there’s a chance of changing things as they are now, because he knows the possibility of him moving on and forgetting the kid is absolutely nonexistent.

 

And he can tell Happy wants to believe him, but he can’t decide what will hurt more, if putting his faith in a miracle or accepting the tragedy of the facts.

 

Neither of them say anything for a while, the weight of what’s missing resting on their conscience, never quite settling.

 

Tony is the one to break the silence, speaking words that sit on common ground between the two options that make up Happy’s internal dilemma.

“He knows, that you care. Probably always has”

 

Happy nods, even though he doesn’t fully internalize the message.

“It still would have been nice of me to tell him directly”

 

Tony hums absentmindedly, thinking of his own unspoken feelings.

 

The things he hasn’t told Peter don’t come back to haunt him, not really. He has the stubborn conviction that all of this is temporary, it’ll be over soon and Peter will be back, and he’ll tell him, he’ll tell him everything and he will hold him close, so close he won’t be able to let go ever again.

 

Those which do follow him around, echoing in the back of his mind at all times, are rather the things he  _ did  _ tell Peter, the ones that matter the most.

He wishes he hadn’t said them right before he lost the kid, because Peter should have gotten to hear them on a nice, sunny day, he should have been surrounded by calm and filled with joy. He shouldn’t have been dying, when Tony told him he thought of him as his son.

 

“I never thought I would say this, but hell, I think I miss seeing him running around” 

Happy says this with a nostalgic half smile on his face, but sadness makes his voice so thick it actually hurts to listen to it.

 

It’s five o’clock on a Friday afternoon and Happy Hogan misses Peter Parker.

  
  
  
  


After the call from Strange, which comes in the middle of the night, exactly eight weeks after Peter died, he flies to the Sanctum in such a hurry that he doesn’t even realise he’s not wearing his shoes until much later.

 

His heart is racing and his hands shake, he’s not sure if it’s due to the wrath cursing through his veins or the anxiety attack that is most surely slowly creeping up on him.

 

Wong is the one to welcome him in.

He spares him a glance, probably taking in Tony’s definitely disheveled appearance, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Instead, he offers him a small smile that drips with commiseration and just a pinch of concern, which is more emotion than Tony has ever seen him show before.

Then he moves out of the way, leaving Tony enough space to get inside.

 

Tony hesitates for a second, fear and anger and hope mixing together all at once, making it impossible for him to move.

 

“Is it real? What Strange told me? Did you really…?”

 

Wong nods “We did. He’s inside, we are restraining him with-”

 

Tony doesn’t wait another second and he rushes in before Wong even gets a chance to finish speaking.

  
  
  
  


They don’t bury Peter.

 

No matter how many times Rhodey tries to reason with him, no matter how many times Pepper explains to him that he can’t live like this, he won’t change his mind about this.

 

He doesn’t want to bury Peter, but most importantly, neither does May.

 

And maybe they’re both going crazy, they’re both still hanging on too tight to the most precious gift they have ever received, but how could one blame them?

 

It’s perhaps or definitely a self- destructive behaviour, but as true as that might be, they could never be able to bury their child. Not when there’s the possibility of him not being really gone.

 

So they don’t bury Peter. 

They wait for him to come back.

  
  
  
  


Ned Leeds shows up at the Tower on a Monday morning, his eyes red and puffy and his shoelaces untied.

 

That sight alone is enough for Tony’s heart to die and decompose in the span of a second.

 

“Ned” he greets, surprise slipping into his voice.

 

“Mister Stark” the boy says, his voice low as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes.

 

He keeps himself from flinching at hearing Ned refer to him as Mister Stark.

He forces himself to take a deep breath and he shallows down the knot in his throat.

“Please, come sit down”

 

Ned silently does as he’s told, and as he sits on the couch opposite to him, Tony can’t stop looking at Ned’s shoes.

 

He didn’t tie his shoelaces, because that’s what teenagers do. They run around and trip on their own feet, they laugh and cry and make mistakes and they learn to know themselves, they learn to grow up.

Teenagers aren’t meant to die, and they aren’t meant to lose their best friends.

 

Ned keeps awkwardly staring at Tony and it doesn’t seem like he is going to say anything any time soon.

 

Which means it’s up to Tony to start a conversation, and that fact turns out to be rather unpleasant, as he realizes he has no idea what to say.

 

“You didn’t go to school today?” he ends up asking. It’s a quite pathetic conversation starter, but it’s something, in the end.

 

“It’s July”

 

It is, Tony just forgot about that. Or he didn’t care enough to remember. 

That seems to happen a lot now.

 

“Right. Yeah, of course” he runs a hand through his face, suddenly feeling extremely weary.

 

Ned tries to offer him a sympathetic smile but fails miserably.

 

“I’m sorry, kid” and it’s the stupidest thing to say, but he also does feel the need to apologise.

Because this is Ned, who used to be so carefree and  _ young _ and excited about everything in his life.

This is Ned, whose sparkling, clever eyes look spent and dark, and it’s his fault.

 

Ned barely nods at his apology, probably taking it as a condolence.

“May told me you were with him”

 

“I was”

 

“Was he-” he clears his throat, his eyes watering and Tony’s chest  _ aches  _ “Do you think he was in pain?”

 

Tony takes the question in his hands, weighting it on his palms. How does one answer a question like that?

 

He decides to tell him what he would like to believe “No. I think-” he sniffs “It was peaceful”

 

Ned accepts the words carefully, but they don’t appear to do much to alleviate his pain.

Out of the blue, the tears in Ned’s eyes overflow and he breaks down crying.

 

Tony gets up and goes to his side on instinct, almost without even thinking.

 

“Hey” he slings an arm around Ned’s shoulders, squeezing one of them in an attempt to console him “Just let it out kid”

 

“Sorry, I just-”

 

“I know. It’s okay”

 

It takes a long while before Ned’s sobs die down, and by the time they do, there are tears drying on Tony’s face as well.

  
  
  
  


“Where is he?” he asks through gritted teeth, his pace growing faster until he’s so close to Strange he could step on his toes.

 

The wizard doesn’t bother taking a step back, he looks down at Tony as he stands tall before him, not at all concerned by how little space there is between them and with seemingly no intention of stepping out of the way.

 

“How about you take a second to calm down first?”

 

“How about you answer my question before I cut you?” he all but growls, his ability to think straight lost among the mess of raw feeling accumulated in his head.

 

“Listen to me for a second, would you?” Strange says sharply, as if deciding that there was no way Tony would listen to him if he chose to communicate through gentleness

“Do you really want to run in there in the state you’re in? Because I think we both know what you’ll do if that happens”

 

“I’ll fucking kill him, that’s what I’ll do” 

 

“Yeah, you’d fucking kill him, wouldn’t you, Stark? And then, after feeling  _ so good _ for what, half a second? You’ll realize you just lost your chance to get the kid back”

 

The words feel like getting a bucketful of cold water splashed in his face.

He blinks a couple of times, his mouth opens, then closes. Then, he processes the information he was just given.

 

“You’re saying-” a breath “You’re saying, Peter-” he finds he can’t bring himself to say it, for the thought alone of it, the thought he has been refusing to let go of all this time, is already the most beautiful thing and he doesn’t want to ruin it with his broken voice.

 

Strange nods, his expression softening ever so slightly “Idhunn is a very powerful wizard, he is reportedly skilled when it comes to the manipulation of time, and his first intention was to gain possess of the Time Stone. Thankfully, we were able to stop that from happening, unfortunately, that led to you and Peter getting stuck in his loop. But you already know all of that, I imagine”

 

Tony nods, not knowing what else he should do.

 

“There is a possibility that the loop was never interrupted. He just, morphed it, made it into something different”

 

Tony could feel his brain start to work on its gears, coming back to life along with his long lost hope.

“So what you’re saying is-”

 

“What I’m saying is that this reality, the one in which Peter dies, does not follow the space-time continuum of our universe. All of this exists outside of any chronology. Which means you’re still stuck, Tony”

 

“Which means Peter’s not really gone” he whispers, and the sound of those words is enough to make him giddy. He chuckles, unable to believe the world could be so bright once again, and it’s the first time he laughs after two months, or more.

 

“Yeah” Stephen grants him a smile, before he stills once again “But that’s only if you get yourself together, and you work with us to get Idhunn to undo all of this”

 

“Of course. Of course” 

 

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for Peter Parker.

  
  
  
  


“I think the worst part is that I forget, sometimes. Sometimes I get back from work and I go to his room to tell him to come have dinner, and he just isn’t there”

 

Tony listens to her without daring to meet her eyes. Instead, he looks at a picture of Peter, aged nine, sitting on the floor with his uncle, both of them hyper focused on building a Lego set.

 

It hurts a little less, maybe a lot more, but it keeps him from meeting May’s eyes, which is good, because they’re big and full of despair and Tony can’t handle them.

 

“It hurts” she tells him, squeezing a pillow between her arms, trying to find comfort in it like a child would “Sometimes I forget, and it hurts even more”

 

Tony knows.

“I know”

 

Silence falls for a while, carrying their thoughts around as if they were leaves on the ground

 

They won’t cry today, Tony doesn’t think they will.

 

“I never even pictured what it would have been like without him, not even after I found out about Spider-Man and the risks it brought.

Life without Peter was always something I couldn’t ever imagine, not even if I tried. He’s a part of me, I think, and he’s the one part I really can’t afford to lose”

 

“I’m gonna bring him back, May, I swear to you” he means it, more than he’s ever meant any other words he has uttered before.

  
Tony has seen Peter die so many times, and then come back, that he can’t just accept this is the end of it. And neither can May, although her reasons diverge from his.

So he swears, because it’s what she needs to hear and what he needs to say.

 

“I’m gonna bring him back” 

 

May knows.

“I know”

 

They’re not going to cry today.

  
  
  
  


Tony spends an unhealthy amount of time in Peter’s room when he misses him the most, which is every day.

 

He never dares to touch anything, so that everything stays the same and he can pretend no time passed since Peter last was there.

 

He does open the window, lets the air circulate inside the room so it won’t smell like the past.

 

He lies down on Peter’s bed and looks at the ceiling. 

There’s nothing to see there, though, nothing that manages to distract Tony from the fact that he  _ misses the kid so much. _

 

He doesn’t sleep, he just coaches himself to breathe and tries to find a comfortable position, despite the fact that everything hurts.

  
  
  
  


Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder, like he always does, and he squeezes it.

 

That gesture was always enough to anchor Tony, to keep him from drifting, but somehow this time it doesn’t seem to have the same effect.

 

“Hey, Tones, we were about to have dinner. Are you coming?”

 

“I’ll be there in a while” and they both know that’s just a nicer way to say he won’t be moving from the lab for hours.

 

Rhodey sighs, as if he’s settling the weight of the sky on his shoulders.

Tony figures he must be that heavy, then.

 

“C’mon, man, don’t pull this with me”

 

“I’m sorry” he’s not, really. Not exactly, not for this.

 

“Don’t be. Just, I know this is hard for you. Scratch that, it’s hell, but we’re here for you, we care about you and I don’t want you to push us away. It won’t work”

 

Tony barely understands what his best friend is trying to tell him, he’s just stubborn like that, if he doesn’t want to hear something, he won’t.

 

So instead of acknowledging Rhodey’s speech, he changes the subject. 

 

“Do you know what his last words were?”

 

Rhodey closes his eyes for a second and he grips Tony’s shoulder a bit tighter.

He shakes his head.

 

“He thanked me” 

 

He’s tired, suddenly, terribly so and he can tell Rhodey’s as well.

The next second he’s sad again.

 

“Why would he thank me?”

 

Rhodey answers him, but Tony doesn’t listen.

He never does.

  
  
  
  


He does punch Idhunn in the face as soon as gets inside the room in which they’re keeping him, tied to a chair with some kind of magical restraints Tony doesn’t care to analyse.   
When he sees he hasn’t made him bleed, he strikes another hit, aiming for his nose.   
Then he forces himself to take a step back .   
  
Idhunn laughs.   
  
“Well, hello to you too” he spits on the floor, his teeth satisfyingly stained red. He turns to Wong and Strange “It was nice of you to invite him, he does know how to bring life to a party, uh?”

 

“Are you going to go on like this all night? I really don’t want to send Wong to buy earplugs at this time” Strange hovers by the door, arms crossed as he surveilles the situation.

 

“You’re quite funny, aren’t you?” Tony feels the need to vomit at the sight of Idhunn’s cheeky smile “Tell me Stark, how’s life without the little one? I bet you miss him loads”

 

He bites on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

 

“If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut”

 

The sorcerer shrugs “If I were you, I’d get over myself”

 

Wong interrupts before Tony gets the chance to assault the other man once again.

“I would like to remind you the reason you’re here, and what awaits you if you don’t follow our conditions”

 

“Of course, yes. I forget you people like to talk business right away. So, Stark, I guess you want your kid back?”

 

He doesn’t want Peter back, he  _ needs  _ him, and he was never even meant to lose him in the first place.

 

“You have no idea what’s going to come for you if you don’t bring him back.

 

Idhunn arches and eyebrow “I’m sure it’s very gruesome stuff, but that won’t be necessary. I get bored easily”

 

“Are you saying you’re willing to collaborate with us? You’re going to put an end to this?” Strange is suddenly beside Tony, inserting himself back in the conversation.

 

“Yeah, actually. That’s how depressing this whole thing got”

 

“He’s lying” he’s gotta be lying, like he did before and although Tony wants  to believe it, he can’t do that to himself “He said the same thing before”

 

“I’m not lying. Yeah, you fell for my trick last time but there’s no way I can pull it off again. Not with these two nice gentlemen present”

 

Tony turns to look at Strange, who nods.

 

“He shouldn’t be able to undo all of this on his own, anyway. He’ll need one of us to assist him, and we can make sure he does what he has to do”

 

Tony inhales, he exhales. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

 

“I’m getting him back” he mutters to himself, and it feels right, it feels real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if you feel like leaving a comment you would not only make my day but probably like, my year, so pls let me know your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you have a bad dream?”
> 
> “The worst dream, Pete, the worst”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you people! Long time no see!  
> Here’s a crappy final chapter to go along with a crappy fic.  
> I am so so grateful for you guys and the fact that you actually stuck with me through this delirious little story despite the fact that I am horrible at updating.  
> I hope you enjoy this, and thank you!

When he wakes up, Peter can’t breathe.

 

It’s not unusual, itself, not really. Being in this situation is anything but foreign to him.

 

This is certainly not the first time he finds himself gasping for air as soon as he comes to; he has known this kind of feeling since he was six years old and nightmares first started plaguing his sleep.

 

Still, something feels off, and as he sits on his bed, a hand going to rest against his chest in an attempt to ground himself, he can’t focus on anything else other than the ringing in his ears, the knowledge that something is terribly wrong.

 

He finds his vision is blurry and he can’t quite take in his room through it, which means the sense of security that normally washes over him once he realizes he’s home, that he’s safe, doesn’t come to him, making it harder to calm himself down.

 

He tries to recall exactly what was it that he dreamt about, what could have startled him and upset him so much.

 

Somehow, the fact that he can’t come up with an answer sends him spiraling even further.

 

He tries putting his feet on the floor, hoping that having something solid to rely on will be enough to slow his racing heart.

 

It’s cold, so he latches on to the sensation.

 

_ One, two, three, four, five. _

 

It’s not enough, so he starts again.

He counts, the minutes pass by. 

He counts, he forgets, he starts again.

He counts, his breathing slows, then it picks up, then it settles again.

 

There’s something wrong, he knows this, something is wrong and he’s gotta fix it.

But he doesn’t know what, and he can’t remember, so he counts.

 

He’s fine, he’s whole, he checked, there’s no reason to worry. Yet he can’t shake off the anxiety, the anticipation.

 

He feels like he’s just waiting for the ground beneath him to open in a void and swallow him whole, like the world is going to explode, now, any moment and he can tell it will but has no idea how to prevent it from doing so.

 

The knock on his door makes him jump slightly, but it also manages to distract him from his own mind and to get his attention.

 

“Peter, you awake?”

 

May’s voice feels like a beacon of light, it engulfs him, and suddenly he forgets about everything else, he doesn’t think anything is out of place anymore.

 

His heart tugs and he realizes he  _ missed her _ .

He missed her more than he’s ever done before and he can’t quite figure out how, or why. 

He last saw her yesterday, after all.

 

May cracks the door open, her head timidly popping into frame.

Her smile widens when she sees Peter awake, and she steps into the room “Hey baby, did you sleep well?”

 

Peter answers by rushing into her, squeezing her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.

 

May gasps in surprise, but wraps her arms around him nonetheless “Oof, Pete. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine” he mumbles, his eyes closed “I love you”

 

“Love you too” she pulls away from the hug but she still holds onto Peter’s arms as she studies his face with a cocked eyebrow “Did you have a nightmare?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember”

 

She hums, concern clouding her features just slightly “Alright. Well, how about having some breakfast together? I went and got brioches for the both of us”

 

Peter can’t help but smile “That sounds good”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah” he nods.

 

May smothers back a couple of his stray curls, in order to keep them off his eyes “Okay then, let’s go”

 

Peter follows her into the kitchen, and he finally feels like he can breathe again.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony bursts into the apartment while May and Peter are still sitting at the kitchen table.

 

Peter jumps on his feet immediately, confused but alert and ready to face whatever threat is coming their way.

 

May’s eyes widen in surprise, and it looks like she’s having a rather hard time processing the scene unfolding before her.

 

It’s not that Tony doesn’t usually come visit them, quite the contrary, actually, but though he owns a copy of the keys, he always makes sure to knock before coming in.

He would never enter the apartment without being invited in, much less in such a way, and that’s how Peter knows the circumstances are most likely drastic.

 

To confirm that there’s Tony’s disheveled appearance and the fact that he’s wearing the suit, which is enough for Peter’s heart to start hammering against his ribcage.

 

“Tony!” exclaims May, finally catching up with the situation “What the hell is going on?”

 

Tony doesn’t answer her, his whole attention turned on Peter. 

He’s looking at him the way he would look at a ghost, like it’s totally impossible he could be there and real.

 

“Mister Stark?” he calls hesitantly, feeling extremely uneasy and just on the verge of a panic.

 

“Kid” he breathes, and that single word drips with such desperation that it hurts to hear.

 

“Tony, you need to tell us what’s happening” he begins to say.

 

His mentor starts walking closer to him, slowly, as if he was afraid that a too sudden movement would be enough to somehow frighten him.

 

Peter doesn’t know what else to do, so he waits, even though the fear is eating at him, along with the worry.

 

Tony looks devastated and Peter doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to expect.

This must be big, for Tony to be in such a state, it has to be, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face it.

 

He’s waiting for information, orders, dramatic news that he would probably prefer not to hear.

What he doesn’t see coming is Tony dropping to his knees.

 

“Woah, Tony!” he kneels in front of him, his brows furrowing in concern as he lays his hands on the man’s shoulders, in order to keep him upright “Are you hurt? What happened?”

 

Tony shakes his head, which doesn’t do much to alleviate Peter’s concern.

Instead he takes Peter’s face between his hands.

 

“You have no idea how much you matter to me, kid” he tells him, stroking his cheek, tears in his eyes.

 

Peter blinks at him, caught completely off guard by the statement, if not by the situation itself.

 

He leans into Tony’s hand, suddenly feeling the need for some sort of comfort; which is provided to him right away, as Tony pulls him in for a hug.

 

Peter melts into it, a haphazard wave of emotion hitting him out of the blue and with such intensity that he struggles to recoil from it.

He doesn’t quite understand why, but his chest feels heavy and the knot in his throat indicates that there might be a possibility he will break down in tears.

 

Tony is shaking almost violently against him, but his hold remains secure, safe, despite his evident distress.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a little desperate, a little lost, but not all that scared anymore.

 

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s quite perfect, actually” Tony chuckles, but his laugh is so watery it sounds more like a sob.

 

Even though the words seem genuine, Peter can’t bring himself to believe them.

This isn’t the way Tony would normally behave if everything really was perfect.

“Don’t lie”

 

“I’m not” he squeezes Peter a little bit tighter “I’m not, I swear. It’s fine, we’re safe” he takes a breath “We’re safe” he says again, to himself this time and he seems incredulous of his own words.

 

Peter hesitantly pulls away, but he makes sure not to break all physical contact, in case that it would upset Tony.

“Why did you fly here, then?”

 

Tony gives him a look, and it’s enough for Peter to understand.

 

“Did you have a bad dream?”

 

“The worst dream, Pete, the worst” he looks absolutely wrecked as he tells him that, so weary that Peter would think he has lived a couple hundred years more since the other day.

 

“It’s okay” he tries to reassure him, taking his hand “It’s over now”

 

“Yeah” Tony shakes his head, scoffing. He dries a couple stray tears with the back of his hand, carelessly “Never really happened, uh?”

 

Peter nods and Tony offers him a smile.

It’s somewhat melancholic, but there’s happiness in it, too, along with a bit of love, a smidge of relief.

 

They don’t talk for a while (seconds, minutes, who’s to say?); the quiet that surrounds them is only interrupted when May decides that she has been awkwardly sitting in silence for way too long, and she coughs to get their attention.

 

“Uhm, would you like a brioche, Tony?”

 

Tony just laughs, pulling Peter closer once again.

May takes it as a yes.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony starts spending more and more time at the apartment, until it gets to the point he shows up almost every day, excluding the times Peter comes over at the Tower.

He stops by for lunch, sometimes for breakfast, sometimes to watch a movie in the evening. 

Soon enough, his presence begins to be a constant in May and Peter’s daily life.

 

Peter, of course, doesn’t mind that in the slightest, and really, neither does May.

But though they enjoy having Tony around, they can’t help but notice his change in behavior.

 

It’s not evident. 

It never is with Tony, he always makes sure to meticulously hide these sort of things from everyone, especially from Peter, because he doesn’t want to make him worry, because he thinks he’s a burden and all sort of other nonsense.

 

It’s not evident, but they see it.

 

They see Tony’s restlessness, the way he never seems to let himself relax, never lets his guard down, like he’s expecting the sky will fall and crumble upon them any moment.

He’s jittery, his mind often miles, if not galaxies away.

 

More than once they’ve noticed his vacuous staring into nothing, the way his hands shake oh so slightly and his breath hitches almost imperceptibly, but they’re not sure what to do, what to say, so they just stay close, let him know they’re there for him.

 

May asks Peter, when he’s helping her clean the house on a Sunday morning, if something happened on a mission, if maybe that could explain Tony’s distress.

 

“Not that I know of” he frowns, thinking hard about any detail he might have forgotten, not coming up with anything useful “But it’s gotta be pretty bad, I think. I mean, he hasn’t been like this in a very long time, as far as I know”

 

May considers his answer. She moves a more dead than alive plant from the shelf and on the floor.

“He’s obviously struggling” she admits with a sigh “But I’m sure he’ll get back on his feet soon enough. We just gotta be there for him, make sure he gets the help he needs, uh?”

 

She tilts Peter’s chin up with two of her plastic gloved fingers, offering him a reassuring smile.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I just, I wish I could do more. That he’d actually tell me what’s going on”

 

May laughs a bit at that, somewhere between playful, fond and exasperated “That’s funny coming from you. Now you know how I feel”

 

She bops his nose and gets back to cleaning the dust off their shelf.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony comes pick him up from school on his last day before summer break.

 

He has been actually doing that more often than usual, so much that Peter is almost not surprised to see him there, but he still is immensely pleased to find Tony standing next to his crazy expensive Audi, waiting for him.

 

Peter says goodbye to Ned with the promise to hang out more often now that school has let out, and he hurries down the stairs and towards Tony’s car.

 

His mentor smiles at him in greeting, opening his arms as an offer for Peter to throw himself into them.

 

He accepts the invitation gladly, letting himself melt into the embrace.

 

They didn’t use to hug even half as often as they do now.

Physical contact used to be rare, hesitant, reserved for exceptional occasions; but since whatever happened happened, undeniably making something shift in Tony, any chance they get to demonstrate their affection is a good one.

 

And Peter is worried sick about Tony, trying to figure out what is wrong with him, but he would be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy this particular change in their dynamic.

 

“Hey kid” he says, loud enough for him to hear “Did you have a nice day?”

 

Peter pulls away from the hug, nodding his head repeatedly “I’m  _ so  _ glad it’s over, Mister Stark”

 

Tony chuckles at that “I bet”

 

“I’m gonna sleep for a week. And then probably another one, just to recover from finals”

 

“I thought you wanted to do a Star Wars marathon tonight?” his mentor arches an eyebrow, his lips just barely pulled upwards in an amusement.

 

“And that’s exactly what we will do.  _ Then,  _ I’ll go to sleep and wake up in September”

 

Tony shrugs “Fine by me. Though I’ll have to live with your snoring, and I have to say, that can get pretty loud and annoying”

 

Peter opens his mouth and rests his hand on his chest in feigned shock, bringing as much melodrama into it as he can muster.

“I do  _ not  _ snore. Never have, never will”

 

“Whatever you say, kid” he rolls his eyes and turns to open the door “Now get in, would you?”

 

Peter does, his eyes shining and a cheerful grin taking up most of the space on his face.

 

It’s going to be the best summer ever.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter feels like he’s missing time.

 

When he wakes up in the morning and he’s in his room, at the apartment or at the compound, there’s always a fraction of second, sometimes less than that, sometimes more, in which the only thing that comes to his mind is  _ I didn’t fall asleep here. _

 

It’s that, and the way he loses himself in his own thoughts, from time to time, trying to summon memories that he feels he’s missing but doesn’t understand how.

 

Maybe he wouldn’t even pay it any mind, wasn’t it for Tony.

 

Because Tony and his new fears are what really send the alarms in the back of his head blaring, the reason he chooses to trust that feeling of subtle inadequacy. 

 

Tony is proof that something really happened, something that Peter is missing information about.

 

He doesn’t ask him about it, though. 

He really, really wishes he could, but he can’t bring himself to.

For some reason he feels like bringing the topic up to Tony will be enough to shatter him completely, and he doesn’t want to risk it.

 

So he tries to figure out as much as he can on his own; he buys a notebook that he keeps on his bedside table and in which he makes sure to annotate any dreams, or memories, that he has.

 

He doesn’t ever write down anything that even actually feels close to a clue, all that he comes up with are lingering sensations, beats of silence that he can’t interpret and images, flashes, of places he’s sure he’s never been to.

 

In the end, all that he has is the knowledge that he’s missing time, and not much more.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Where are you going?”

 

Peter turns in his suit, a slight frown on his face as he stops halfway through putting his mask on.

 

“”What does it look like?”

 

Tony shoots him a disappointed look, which is actually unexpected, and it takes Peter by surprise.

 

“You didn’t plan on letting me know you were leaving?”

 

Peter blinks, caught off guard by note of accusation in the words, and just barely hurt by it.

 

“You were busy, and I thought you already knew. I always patrol at this time”

 

Tony remains stiff, his expression still displaying that same chagrin that Peter can’t quite place nor understand.

 

“You already patrolled this morning”

 

“Yeah, but it’s Summer”

 

Tony sighs heavily, his composure finally melting “Exactly, can’t you take a vacation from superheroing or something?”

 

Peter laughs at that “Mister Stark, you know that’s not gonna happen”

 

Tony hums, then scoffs and he turns his eyes to the floor. 

 

“I guess it’s not uh?” he says, a sad smile on his face.

 

Peter shrugs, suddenly feeling inexplicably uncomfortable, but he offers a smile of his own.

 

“Well then. You can go, but I want you to keep me updated and please, be careful”

 

Peter nods “Of course, yeah. Like always”

 

“Definitely  _ not _ like always, Parker. I wanna have a nice, panic attack less night, thank you very much”

 

He rolls his eyes “Okay then, I’ll be super careful and won’t make stupid decisions, are you happy now?”

 

Tony crosses his arms over his chest “Promise me”

 

“Are you for real?”

 

“Promise me, Parker”

 

“Alright, I pinkie swear” he holds out his pinkie, which Tony takes after a second, laughing.

 

“Good boy. Now go, and if I don’t hear from you within two hours, you’re grounded”

 

“You can’t ground me!” he protests, lowering his mask on his face as opens the French window that leads to the balcony.

 

“We’ll see about that!” comes Tony’s response from inside.

 

Peter shakes his head, then he climbs on the railing, and he jumps.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony sets two glasses of juice down on the table, sliding the red one towards Peter’s direction and the green one towards Ned’s.

 

Peter grabs his, he slips the straw between his teeth and takes a sip. He hums and gives Tony a thumbs up “It’s good”

 

Ned mimics Peter and he nods along to his affirmation “Yeah, thank you Mister Stark”

 

Tony scoffs, a smile playing on his lips “For God’s sake, kids, I made orange juice, it’s not like we’re on Masterchef”

 

“Whatever, it was kinda sweet of you” he shrugs, slurping.

 

“Oh, please. Drink your juice and shut up”

 

Ned looks between the two of them awkwardly, as if not sure whether he should intervene in the conversation or not. 

He settles for doing what Tony told them to.

 

“Can we still build the Millennium Falcon in the living room?” asks Peter.

 

“‘Course you can, just don’t leave any pieces on the floor, I don’t wanna step on them again. And call me when you’re all done”

 

Ned smiles “Will do”

 

“Are you gonna be in the lab?”

 

“Yep. If you children behave I might even let you tinker, later. Under strict supervision from an adult, which is me, of course”

 

Ned’s eyes widen almost comically in wonder, all shiny and exited “That would be awesome”

 

Tony smirks at that “Glad to see such enthusiasm” he steps away from the kitchen counter and makes his way out of the room, ruffling Peter’s hair as he passes him by “Have fun, my young ones!”

 

As soon as Tony is no longer in sight, Ned turns to face him, his mouth hanging open “Dude, Tony Stark just made me orange juice and invited me to his lab”

 

Peter laughs “Yeah, he did”

 

Though he’s way past being starstruck, he still hasn’t quite let go of his great admiration for Tony that sometimes blends into downright hero worship. If anything, as he gets to know him better and better, he finds it’s growing and that he’s increasingly more and more thankful for being part of Tony’s life, and have Tony being part of his.

 

So he totally understands the reason Ned is so stunned, because he has been in his position before, and because, in a way, he still is now, every day.

 

“This is like, literally a dream come true. Pinch me”

 

Peter does, energetically.

 

“Auch! Not so hard!” Ned grabs his own arm where Peter pinched him, a betrayed look on his face.

 

“I’m sorry!” he apologises, still laughing despite himself.

  
  
  
  
  


He doesn’t choose the best moment, perhaps.

 

Pepper seems to be in a rush, hurriedly reading through her papers as she sips on her coffee, not even sitting down at table.

 

And he himself is pretty drowsy from sleep, and it  _ is  _ seven in the morning, which is earlier than he ever wakes up when he’s on break from school.

 

But it is also probably his only chance to talk to Pepper alone, with Tony still asleep and no one else on the living quarters.

 

“Good morning, Miss Potts” he greets, somewhat shyly.

 

Pepper’s head snaps up to meet him, her eyes softening once she spots his figure “Peter! What are you doing already up?”

 

Peter pulls up the sleeves of his pajama shirt to cover his hands, nervously playing with the tissue “Uhm, would have a bit of spare time, to talk? It’s okay if you don’t, I mean I understand, you must be super busy, right? And I, well-”

 

Pepper interrupts his rambling with a kind smile “Of course, we can talk. Come sit down”

 

Peter moves towards the table, his steps timid and unsure.

They both sit down, facing each other.

 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

 

Peter gulps. All of the concerns that have kept amounting and piling up in the back his mind over these last week come all simultaneously afloat, ever so present and pressing.

 

“It’s about Tony” he croaks out “I think you must have noticed, how he has been acting, recently, the way he looks…he looks, I don’t know”

 

“Haunted?” Pepper offers, and the definition fits perfectly.

 

“Yeah” he sighs “And I guess I’m worried. Like very, but he won’t talk to me, and it looks like it’s pretty bad, y’know? Whatever it is that happened, it must have sucked, and I don’t want him to get through this without any help”

 

Pepper hums, considering. She takes a couple seconds of silence to align her thoughts, during which Peter can’t get himself to stop fidgeting.

 

“You’re a dear, Peter. I truly appreciate you caring for Tony so much and I understand that you’re worried, but it isn’t your responsibility to deal with his mental health. He wouldn’t want you to feel like it is, and that’s probably why he hasn’t told you anything. You know Tony sees a therapist, and I’m sure he’s working on this during his sessions. It might take some time, but he always gets better. And you don’t have to do anything else but just be here, with him”

 

“But I want to do something. He can trust me, I want him to trust me, not just pretend that everything’s okay when I can see that’s it’s not. He’s always there for me when I need him, so I think it’s only fair I return the favor, don’t you think?” 

 

He speaks earnestly, meaning every word, each and every one of them coming right from the bottom of his heart. He doesn’t even flinch at how his voice cracks horribly, he doesn’t really care at the moment.

 

“Just give him time, Peter. He can be as stubborn as a mule, but he’ll come around”

 

Peter nods, taking the words in reluctantly, not wanting to accept them.

 

“Do you know what’s going on, though?”

 

“Not all of it, but yeah” she smiles at him sympathetically, as if apologising for not being able to tell him what she knows.

 

Peter’s face crumbles then, frustration bubbling up in his chest.

“Please, Pepper” he begs, quite miserably.

 

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m sure he will tell you everything sooner or later, it’s just not my place to do so”

 

Peter grits his teeth, forcing himself to say “I understand”

 

And he does, he gets it, but it’s not fair, because he still feels so lost, so useless and sometimes he thinks the world must have imploded while he was asleep.

He’s still missing pieces.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter grew up without the stars above his head.

 

The New York sky was always too dark for them to be visible, and the buildings too tall, and Peter too busy looking down at his feet to make sure he didn’t trip.

 

He knows if they would have been there every night, they probably wouldn’t catch his eye the way they do when he gets high enough to see them.

 

But they weren’t, so here he is: lying down on a deck chair on the roof of the Tower, looking up at the stars as if it were the first time he sees them (it is not, but close enough).

 

Tony is on his own chair on Peter’s right, he’s telling him about his day, because Peter asked him to do so, and he’s not looking up at the sky.

 

Peter knows why, but he doesn’t say it aloud.

There’s something else that he feels the need to bring up, and this time it’s not Tony’s crippling fear of space and the threats it holds.

 

But he waits, just a while, a few moments longer.

 

He lets Tony speak, not really listening to what he is saying, but still finding comfort in the sound of his voice. 

The wind blows against his face, tossing his hair around gently and aligning his thoughts in the process.

 

Peter chooses the words to say as he traces new constellations with his eyes; he doesn’t linger on their shape or their meaning, he just makes sure they are true to his concerns and that they come from the bottom of his heart.  

 

“Hey Tony” he says, interrupting the man just as he was starting to tell him about Dumm-E’s latest stunt.

 

Tony turns to look at him, his right eyebrow raised upwards “Yeah?”

 

“You know you can count on me, right?”

 

Tony frowns, getting up on his elbows “Of course, kid. You’re like, my annoying little shadow, couldn’t get rid of you even if I wanted to. And I really, really don’t want to”

 

“Then what is it that you’re not telling me?” he asks, locking eyes with Tony to let him know just how worried he is, how seriously he’s taking this.

 

“What are you on about?”

 

Peter sighs, not exasperated, just tired, worn out.

“I’m not dumb. I can see something’s bothering you. God, Tony, you’re a mess! I can see it, Pepper sees it, May too! You keep pretending everything’s alright and failing miserably, but we’re here to help, I’m here to help. Just, let me”

 

Tony goes pale, that same fear resurfacing into his features. He shakes his head, runs his hands over his face “It’s not your job to help me get my shit together, Pete.  _ I’m  _ the one who’s supposed to be looking out for you”

 

“But I  _ want _ to help you, it’s not something that I’m forced to do. It would actually put my mind at ease to just know what the hell is going on”

 

“I’m not gonna charge you with the weight of this”

 

Peter groans, and to his horror, a few tears of frustration slip from his eyes, over passing his control “Please, Tony, just let me in. I can help, not much, but I can try”

 

Tony’s face crumbles just slightly, he sniffs and gets up from his deck chair. He kneels on the floor in front of Peter, a few joints cracking as he does so, but he ignores it.

He wipes the most of Peter’s tears with his thumb, then he smiles at him, half sadly, half tenderly.

 

“You’re too sweet, you know that? It’s nice to know you care this much, actually, it makes me feel all kinds of mushy things. But Pete, you don’t have to worry about me, yeah? It’s true, I’m a little messed up right now, I won’t lie. I’m scared all the time-“

 

“Scared of what?”

 

“Losing you, mainly. Even more than usual, would you believe?” he laughs, but Peter doesn’t understand how’s that funny.

 

“The thing is, I am getting help from a professional, and you know me, it’s kinda hard to beat me down, I’m too stubborn. You don’t need to do anything but just hang around and be you, that’s really the thing that’s helping the most”

 

He takes both of Peter’s hands into his, gives them a squeeze.

 

“I’m so annoyed at you right now” he says, but he melts into the hug Tony pulls him in nonetheless.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter comes to his senses to the sound of Tony screaming into his ears, which is, if he has to be honest, not really nice.

 

His head already feels like it’s going to explode; everything’s too loud and muffled at the same time and he feels like he should probably panic, but he can’t bring himself to.

 

He tries and fails to figure out exactly what kind of situation he has landed himself him, but he does deduce it must not be optimal from the barely bearable pain that pulses through the entirety of his back.

 

He groans, deciding that coming back to awareness was a bad, bad decision and he would much rather go back to sleep and wait the soreness out.

 

Of course, Tony doesn’t agree with him.

He takes Peter’s face between his hands and he starts tapping his cheeks “Hey, hey Pete. Wake up, c’mon, open your eyes. Please kid, open ‘em for me”

 

Peter doesn’t understand why he has to be so loud, but he does open his eyes, just to make Tony happy, and he regrets it immediately.

 

“Yes! Yes, there you are buddy. You hear me?”

 

Peter pouts at him, feeling really tired and really annoyed at Tony for wanting him awake.

 

“Yea” he slurs, shifting his back up against the wall, which has apparently been behind him all this time.

The movement is enough to send a new wave of pain rushing along his column, and Peter grimaces at it.

 

“Don’t move” says Tony, moving his hands from Peter’s face to his shoulders, keeping him in place.

 

“Got it” he takes a breath, narrows his eyes to try and gain his focus back.

 

Once Tony’s face becomes clear enough through his foggy eyesight, he notices his skin is a couple shades paler than usual, and that his eyes are blown wide.

 

“You okay?” he asks, his sleepiness suddenly wearing off, leaving space for the concern that’s now seeping through his veins.

 

Tony actually laughs at him, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes and creases forming on his forehead. He looks older than he ever has, for a second, and Peter can’t decide if he’s relieved or nearly hysterical.

 

Tony squeezes his shoulder “I’m fine, you dummy, how are  _ you _ ?”

 

“Back hurts”

 

“The med team is on its way, hold on just for a while longer, yeah? Soon enough you’ll be on so many painkillers you’ll forget your own name”

 

“I’m not sure I can remember it right now” he means it as a joke, something to lighten up the mood, but apparently now isn’t the right moment for that.

 

“Did you hit your head? How hard? Do you, do you know who I am? You remember what happened?”

 

Peter just now notices the violent shaking of Tony’s hands, the panic in his voice and the way he’s holding onto Peter’s shoulders so tightly he can feel the nails digging into his skin.

 

“I was joking, Tony. I’m fine, you can relax, take a breath”

 

Tony does take a breath, though it does little to slow his erratic heartbeat.

 

Peter listens to it gallop and he almost expects it will inevitably explode in the way too near future.

 

“Jesus Christ, kid, I just lost ten years” his voice cracks noticeably on the word  _ kid _ and Peter feels kinda sorry for causing the man so much grief.

 

“Hey, I’m alright. It was just a hit, I’ve survived way worse, you know that. This is nothing, really, give it a day and I’ll be back to normal”

 

Tony nods, his eyes shut tightly.

“I know. I know, it’s just-” his breath hitches and Peter goes rigid, not really knowing how he should handle this situation if Tony were to break down; and given the circumstances that seems like a very plausible option.

 

“He hit you  _ hard _ , and the sound you made when you hit the wall was, it was...And you might as well have been dead, for all I knew. I saw you crumble to the ground, all boneless and limp and I thought he killed you. I was convinced you were dead”

 

“Mister Stark” he cuts him off, his voice hard and stern in order to get his attention and keep him from falling further into his own vortex of panic.

 

Once Tony’s eyes shoot up to meet his, he says: “I’m not. See, I’m here, I’m not dead”

 

He untangles Tony’s fingers from his left shoulder and brings his hand to rest against his chest.

 

“You hear that? I’m okay, one hundred percent alive”

 

Tony doesn’t answer; he keeps quiet, slowly calming down to the beat of Peter’s heart.

  
  
  
  
  


Tony has been holed up in the lab for days, and while that isn’t surprising, it is still quite worrisome.

 

Pepper has been making sure he eats by bringing food down to him and almost force feeding him.

She never fails to show her disapproval and her growing concern, along with healthy doses of irritation, but she doesn’t lose her temper and is incredibly patient with Tony.

 

Peter spent some time working with him, not really doing much other than simply keeping Tony company, but he was soon sent back to rest, his stubborn protests carefully ignored.

 

So now he just makes an appearance and checks in every so often, not ever long enough to actually start a conversation.

 

It feels an awful lot like building walls: Tony and him being in the same building at all times, but being divided by an amount of fear and grief that he can’t even begin to comprehend, and not daring to do anything about it.

 

It’s unsettling, all this waiting for silences to speak and for voids of space to close in on themselves.

 

Peter knows that all it would take for the distance to end is him reaching out, but he’s hesitant to do so because he’s not sure how, and what if his attempts result to be vain? What if he makes the wrong call and messes this up even further?

 

He’s stuck within his own fears the same way Tony is, in the end.

 

And it gets very lonely very fast, and the few moments of closeness they allow each other to have hurt more than the time they spend apart.

 

Every night, when Tony comes to say good night and he hastily presses a kiss on his forehead, as if he can’t help but show his affection despite his efforts, Peter shuts his eyes close and presses down the inexplicable and overwhelming need to cry.

 

He misses Tony, in an unfair and suffocating way that totally differs from what he has learned missing someone feels like.

 

Because Tony is here, and Peter is too, and they’re both just wasting time.

 

But they don’t know how to stop it, so it goes on like this even after Peter’s fully healed, because the scars in Tony’s mind are definitely not.

 

It’s Rhodey who puts an end to it, because of course it is. He’s the only one with enough common sense and patience to deal with their nonsense and decide it has dragged on for too long.

 

“You need to talk to him, kid” he tells Peter just as he’s about to leave to Ned’s house for the weekend.

 

Peter turns to look at him slowly, his mouth uselessly opening and closing as he searches for something to say.

 

“I tried” is what he finally manages to reply, and while his words do speak the truth, he still feels like he’s not completely being honest. 

He didn’t try hard enough.

 

“I know you did, Peter. And I know all he did was push you away, because that’s what he does. But he cares about you, probably more than you can imagine, and he’s afraid, but he doesn’t want you to leave”

 

“I won’t leave. I mean, I will now, Happy’s waiting for me, but I’ll come back. You know, what I want to say is I have no intention whatsoever of giving up on Mister Stark” he looks at the ground, shifting the weight of his body to one feet to the other, his hands gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack.

 

Rhodey smiles a little, trying to look Peter in the face despite the boy’s attempt to avoid eye contact.

“You’re a great kid, you know that? And you really do a lot for Tony, without even realising it”

 

Peter blows a breath “Yeah, well. It doesn’t look like it right now”

 

“That’s not on you, though. Tony...he’s been through something really traumatic, and he’s been working to cope with it, but you getting hurt on the mission reminded him of just how real his fear is. And he doesn’t actually mean to distance himself from you, it’s just the way he deals with this sort of things. So, as hard as it might seem, you have to be the one to make contact”

 

“I just, I don’t know how to do that. Everytime I try to ask him how he’s doing he just  _ deflects  _ and changes the subject”

 

Rhodey nods understandingly, encouraging Peter to go on.

 

“And I don’t even know half of what’s going on through his mind, because he won’t tell me, and you guys won’t either. I hate this whole situation, I truly do, but I have absolutely no idea how to fix it!”

His voice cracks horribly as he raises his tone, and Peter cringes at the sound. He realizes his fists are clenched tightly and he opens them slowly, his hands shaking.

 

Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder, and it’s heavy and warm, and probably just the kind of comfort Peter needs right now.

 

“Listen to me, kid. All you’ve gotta do is go talk to him. But you gotta go straight to the point, tell him what you want him to hear before he gets a chance to avoid confrontation”

 

Peter finally raises his head and locks his eyes with Rhodey’s.

 

“Okay. Okay, yeah” the corners of his lips turn slightly upwards “Thank you”

 

“It’s no problem at all, Pete. Now, go have fun with your friend and don’t worry about Tones until you get back, yeah?”

 

Peter takes his advice.

  
  
  
  
  
  


When he gets back from Ned’s on Sunday night, he makes his way directly into the lab.

 

He doesn’t even bother to make his presence known with a greeting, jumping right to the heart of the matter instead.

 

“Getting hurt is part of the job, you know”

 

Tony startles upon hearing his voice, and he almost drops the prototype he’s working on to the ground.

 

“Christ on a cracker, kid!”

 

Peter ignores him as he goes on “You know this, we both do”

 

Tony frowns at him, still breathless from the scare “What?”

 

“I know you care about me and you don’t want anything bad to happen to me. Believe me, I understand. I don’t even want to imagine what I would do if something were to happen to you”

 

He’s speaking so fast that he barely has time to process what he’s saying, but he doesn’t dare take a pause because he might forget the most important parts, they might get stuck in his throat and he could swallow them unintentionally, and if he doesn’t tell Tony now there’s a possibility he will never get a chance to again.

 

“Woah, wait, wait. Slow down a sec”

 

But Peter can’t, he has to say it now because this is the right moment and he won’t let it slip through his fingers.

 

“But the thing is, we do what we can, we can’t predict what happens. And it’s not on you if I get hurt, because I knew what I was getting into when I chose this life, and I still chose it. You could do everything, even the impossible, but sometimes things go south, and it isn’t because you failed me”

 

Peter’s so focused on his speech that he doesn’t notice the way Tony is gripping the table with enough force to break it, his face increasingly changing shades of red, so the outburst is totally unpredictable and sudden for him.

 

“That’s the thing, Peter! I could take all the precautions, but it still wouldn’t be enough! There will always be someone or something that could take you away from me, no matter how hard I fight to prevent that from happening. I can’t keep you safe! There it is, I said it. I can’t keep you safe. Not from everything, not forever, and that thought is...unbearable, it’s killing me. It’s tearing me apart kid, because I can’t lose you. I can’t, I know I can’t” there are tears in his eyes by the time Tony’s finished talking, his whole body shaking.

 

He looks like he’s lost all hope in the world, and Peter knows he’s important to Tony, but he never thought it reached to this extent.

 

By the way he talks it sounds like Peter’s his reason for living, and the concept itself is somewhat disturbing and deeply endearing at the same time.

 

Peter feels like he’s been slapped in the face, the words hitting him again and again as they echo in the silence.

 

He takes a moment to realign his thoughts, and then, just above his breath: “I don’t want you to protect me from everything. I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be there when I need you, and you always are. You’re not supposed to shield me from all the things that could harm me. You’re just supposed to try. Tony, you trying is enough”

 

Tony looks at him, his hair a mess and tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

Peter doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look so vulnerable, almost fragile, but he’s glad he gets to now.

 

“Is it?”

 

Peter nods his head, and if he’s ever been sure of something, this is it.

 

“Yeah. It is”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this kinda sucked and I was supposed to write another scene so the ending would’ve been a bit better but I got lazy and here we are.  
> I am aware that this may not be my best work, actually not at all, but it is the first multi chaptered fic that I actually manage to finish, and that does make me infinitely proud. I also never wrote as much as I did for this, and considering the fact that I started writing this without really knowing how it was going to end, I think it turned out decently. If anything, it was precious practice and I think it helped me grow a bit as a writer.
> 
> If you guys want to write something in the comments, any kind of feedback or your thoughts on this, it would literally make my year. You are truly amazing and I love you 3000 for reading this.
> 
> PS: there’s a mosquito in my room I want to die

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for reading!  
> I wrote this for no reason at all and I thought the plot up while I was writing but I feel like the angst is pretty good? So I don’t exactly hate this, despite it being a mess.  
> Please please let me know what you thought of this if you feel like it, it would mean the world to me.  
> Sorry once again for the possible grammar mistakes or incorrect use of English. Hope you’re having nice day/night/afternoon!


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